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fangswbenefits · 11 months

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Revelations

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Miguel asked you to keep a secret, so naturally everyone is about to find out.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

No warnings! Just a humorous drunk!reader drabble :)

“How much did she have to drink?”

“Maybe three beers?”

“Oh, she’s out of it.”

“How so?”

“She’s been tellin’ everyone she has a boyfriend.”

Jessica Drew’s eyebrows shot up. “Who?”

Hobie merely shrugged.

You threw them a death glare before trying to negotiate with Peter Parker for another bottle, but all to no avail.

“Please! Give me another one,” you whined, sitting down with a thump on the chair oposite to his. “I’m not drunk!”

“How many fingers am I holding up, then?”

You shove his hand away. “Seven… don’t be silly!”

He banged his hand on the table. “See? You have zero tolerance.”

“You have seven fingers on that hand, Jerry!”

“Who’s Jerry?”

You gasped loudly at the sight of Gwen sitting to your right. “When did you get here?”

“What? I was here the whole time.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Gwen, take a good look at her,” he mustered a serious voice. “You don’t want this to happen when you grow up.”

You leant back in your seat with a sigh of frustration. “I want Miguel.”

“Miguel… O’Hara?”

“Gwen, she’s drunk,” you heard Peter whispering.

“Hey! What did we miss?”

Miles and Pavitr nade their way through the busy crowd of fellow spiders, each holding a glass of apple juice.

“Took you some time!” Peter beamed with a wife smile, scooting to the side so they could join the group at the table. “Nice job, kids. The mission was a success.”

“Miguel seemed unimpressed,” Miles grumbled into the heel of his hand.

Peter hid a bottle away before you could snatch it from him, earning a grunt. “I’m sure he’s delighted!”

“Yeah? That’s his delighted face? Looked like someone had just threatened to break canon.”

Pavitr patted his back. “That’s just his regular face, Miles.”

“But he’s really hot…” you said dreamily with an ear-to-ear smile, leaning into Hobie’s shoulder.

Multiple pairs of eyes blinked at you.

Pavitr spoke first. “Miguel?”

Both Miles and Gwen were looking at you like you’d grown a third arm.

“Maybe we should get him here?” You heard Jess saying from behind you. “And you,” her hands gripped both your shoulders to straighten you up in your seat. “You need to sober up.”

You stuck out your tongue as the other spider-woman brought her travel watch to eye-level.

“Lyla, I’m guessing Miguel doesn’t want to come, but—”

The AI cut Jess off with a cheeky smile. “He’s on his way, actually.”

“Miguel is coming?” Peter beamed, unable to contain his excitement.

“Great!” You clapped your hands a couple of times, eager to see him.

Hobie took a sip of his drink. “Bet he’s gonna ruin the vibe.”

Miles nodded right away.

You were about to protest when a chorus of greetings from diverse spiders echoed throughout the bar.

“Evening, boss.”

“Miguel! Great to see you here tonight.”

“Howdy, boss.”

“Meow!”

He was here and once he came into your field of vision — albeit slightly blurred — you felt your heart flutter.

“Look who decided to come out of his cave,” Jess said, her lips quirking up into a smile.

“Miguel!” Peter punched his bicep playfully.

You were waving your hands enthusiastically at him. “Hiiiiii!”

But Miguel wasn’t amused.

His eyes roamed across the table.

“Who brought the beer?”

Everyone immediately pointed at Peter — you included — who was already smiling sheepishly while raising both hands in defense.

“Miguel, we’re just celebrating a successful mission and—”

“Peter, how many times must I tell you not to bring that stuff here?”

“She only had a couple of beers,” Peter replied. “It’s not that strong. I don’t thin—”

“That’s your problem! You never think,” he replied, jabbing a finger at bim.

You giggled. Miguel looked extra hot when he was pissed off. Poor Peter, though.

“Up you go,” Hobie said, hoisting you from your seat, trying his best to keep your balance. “Mind your feet.”

“Wait where are we going?”

“You need to get some fresh air,” he said, helping your arm around his neck for support. “Mr. Grumpy here is about to ruin the mood, I reckon.”

You didn’t want to leave, but figured Hobie was right. He was always right.

“Where are you going?” You heard a voice call out once you’d turned your back.

You twirled on your feet nearly tripping and knocking Hobie down in the process.

“Wait… why are there two of you?” You hiccuped.

Both Miguels arched an eyebrow simultaneously. Impeccable synchronisation. “Two of… what?”

You reached out with your hand to touch one of them but it met with nothing but air.

Huh?

“We were goin’ out for some air.”

You shook your head and the two spider-man 2099 had finally merged into one.

You fluttered your eyelashes dramatically at him. “The just one last beer… pleeeeease…”

“I really can’t do that.”

“But you can do me!” you blurted out with a wink.

Miguel pursed his lips.

Chaos immediately erupted from the bar table, causing some of the spiders nearby to shift their attention to the commotion.

“Language! There’s kids here!” Peter said, trying to cover Gwen’s ears.

“We are not kids!”

Jessica clicked her tongue. “No more drinks for you, young lady.”

“—you are still kids at heart!” Peter was now dealing three very grumpy young spiders.

Hobie, however, saluted you with a proud smile on his face. “You just left Miguel O’Hara speechless. Respect.”

You giggled at Miguel who was definitely not amused. At all.

Before your brain could process what was happening, your body was being hauled from the ground and tossed over someone’s shoulder.

“Time to go home.”

“PUT ME DOWN!” you protested, balling your fists and smashing them against a very hardened surface. “MY BOYFRIEND IS GOING TO DEAL WITH YOU!”

You felt your stomach lurch violently from the motion and decided to tap your webshooters in an attention to free yourself.

The result was…

“HEY! Get-get this off me!”

“I’m sorry, Pavitr!”

Your blob of web had landed on his face, sending the young spider into a frenzy as both Miles and Gwen hurried to aid him.

“Who’s the bloke, hm?” Hobie asked with a grin.

“It’s classified!”

The spider-punk scoffed. “Is that code word for ‘capitalist knobhead’?”

“Funny, ‘cause when I first met Miguel he—” Gwen started.

But was promptly cut off. “Lyla, deactive her webshooters before someone loses an eye.”

“On it, boss!”

You growled in annoyance as an orange beam hit your wrists, rendering the devices uselss. It didn’t take long before you were being dragged out of the bar, multiple spiders glaring you and whispering to each other.

“We can take her home,” Jessica offered, patting the top of your head endearingly. “It’s close by.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

Hobie seemed visibly amused. “Maybe we should wait for her boyfriend to get here.”

The big man carrying you halted his steps.

“What?”

You blinked a few times as you saw the pavement start to tilt and go into a swirl. “I’m going to fall!”

A strong arm came to wrap around your waist, keeping your firmly in place.

That was close.

“Yeah she’s been sayin’ her boyfriend’s gonna be here,” Hobie shrugged.

“She’s had too much to drink,” Peter said dismissively.

“And he is!” you snapped. “See, he’s very strong, Jerry.”

“Really?”

“He’s the strongest spider-man,” you smiled, pride evident in your voice. “Very handsome…”

The spiders in front of you exhanged confused looks and as the motion resumed, your insides flipped momentarily.

“He’s really big, too…”

Jess spoke this time. “Big? As in… tall?”

You nodded. “Right! But also… his dic—”

“Enough!”

“Bloody hell…”

“Woah!” Jess gasped.

Miles, Pavitr, and Gwen, on the other hand, were having the time of their lives.

“Miguel’s face!” Gwen chuckled as Miles leaned on her shoulder fighting back the tears.

Oh. Right.

Miguel was the one carrying you…

Peter was absolutely scandalised, urging them back inside. “Let’s finish our apple juice,” Peter called, ruffling Pavitr’s hair. “I have these amazing photos of Mayday to show!”

None of the budged, though, enjoying the show.

“Real shame your boyfriend isn’t here to witness this,” Hobie said.

You grinned. “But he is! Right here!” you accentuated each word with a pat between Miguel’s shoulderblades.

“Ah, knew she was talking gibberish,” Hobie clicked his tongue.

Jess came to take a look at Miguel’s face. “I… don’t think she is.”

“Well! What a fun night,” Peter said in his usual cheerful voice.

“Wait… WHAT?!” Gwen and Pavitr half-yelled in unison.

Miguel let out growl. “Go back inside. We’ll talk about the next mission tomorrow.”

“But—”

He turned to face them, which had you clamp one hand on your mouth from the turbulence.

All three of them rushed back inside with Peter following closely behind.

“No wonder you showed up for once,” Jess said adjusting her glasses.

“Please… don’t start,” Miguel sighed. “Especially you.”

Hobie adjusted a couple of pins on his vest. “Chill, bro.”

“Say bye-bye,” Miguel said, tapping the back of your thighs.

You waved your hand clumsily at them. “Byeeee!”

Both of them returned the gesture, chuckling.

In no time, you felt yourself being hurled into the night sky across the tall buildings that covered the landscape of Nueva York.

The cool air and silence allowed the realisation to suddenly dawn on you as Miguel carried you effortlessly with each swing of his web, red glow flashing around you.

Fuck…

“They all know, don’t they…” you mumbled into his embrace when he made a quick stop at a rooftop.

“Yes.”

“Sorry, Miguel…” you hiccuped.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “It was only a matter of time, I suppose.”

You curled up against him, cheek resting on his shoulder as he heaved a deep sigh and ran one hand along your back in a loving caress.

He had wanted it to be a secret mostly because he feared others might see it as a liability. After all, as long as he put up a front that he had nothing to lose, then it would be a great asset to have in this line of work.

Or so he thought.

Feeling the pounding headache brewing inside your head, you merely groaned into the crook of his neck.

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fanfiction

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gglitch1dd · 22 days

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HIIIIII!! I am so glad the anon feature is back Im so shy!

could I please request a small little blurb of Izuku beating up kaachan just overall tired of getting berated and things like that from katsuki. idk im rewatching the series and just want Izuku to put katsuki in his place one time for the one time! ORR a small story of reader, Izuku, and katsuki being friends and growing up together and reader always stood up for my boy Izuku.

pink and green heart anon (im on my laptop and can't access my emojis)

Ooooh Someone speaking my language. Hello 💚🩷 Anon!! I'm so sorry this took so long to answer. I've been busy IRL and with my main fics so I haven't gotten to all my asks but I'm sorting through them. I hope you're doing okay sweetheart :)

Fuck you

Midoriya Izuku x Reader

You sat in the common room of the dorms trying to think up of a plan for this years culture festival. Being in third year UA High School, the past two years you had always done something musical themed, but now your class wasn't entirely sure on what to do this year.

"I think maybe a combined project with Class B could work." Midoriya pitched in. The green haired hero had certainly changed the past three years. He was taller now, with added muscle gain too, however often than not you barely noticed unless he was shirtless. His emerald eyes looked over at the group of you that stood around the table. "They are good at plays and we are good at music. Together we could put on something that caters to both and inbetween audiences."

Iida Tenya nodded his head with furrowed eyebrows. "I can talk to Kendo-san but i doubt she would be opposed to it with them."

Asui let out a ribbit as she smiled. "That sounds like a great idea Midoriya-kun." She stated.

You nodded your head as you looked at the green haired teenager in your class. "It is a brilliant idea. We could do a musical!" You suggested. "Why didn't we think of that before. Good job, Midoriya." You praised as well with a light shove to the side of him.

A light blush went to his face but he just smiled, grateful for your support. He opened his mouth to speak but a TSK was heard.

Leaning back in a chair around the table was Bakugou Katsuki, who you were even shocked was here in the first place. Judging by Kirishima (the big man he was starting to turn out to be) was standing behind him, you could only guess it was his idea. "That's a stupid idea, but no surprise considering it came from Deku."

"Whoa dude." Denki let out surprised a the unnecessary friendly fire.

"Bakugou, don't be so rude!" Kirishima hissed down at his best friend. His ruby eyes moved up to Midoriya who stood with a frown on his face. "I'm sorry Midoriya."

"I'm not." Bakugou let out as he stopped leaning back to sit up straight. "The last thing we need is a combined project. It takes too much time and our two classes have different scheduled times too."

Momo had her hands holding her arms as she kept her sweater tight around her. "I'm sure we can work around it." She suggested with a gentle shrug.

"Not with the way Aizawa has been grilling us into the ground. I mean, really Deku? Joining with Class B? A fifth grader could have come up with that!" Bakugou shouted.

"Bakugou, just stop it okay." You said with a frown. "Leave him alone, it's a good idea!"

Instead of looking bashful of shy or ashamed, Midoriya just stared at Katsuki with emotionless green eyes. Midoriya had started getting more and more fed up with Bakugou's antics and the two started butting heads more and more. "What is your problem?"

"HUH?!"

"You fucking heard me, don't make me repeat myself." You had to double take as you looked to Midoriya, shocked that you just heard what he said come out of his mouth. He kept his hands in his pockets as he looked down at Bakugou in half disgust. Iida was shocked himself, not even trying to correct Midoriya on his language.

Bakugou paused with a disbelieving look. He closed his crimson red eyes and let out a light scoff as he moved to put his hands on the table as he stood up. "My problem? If I find an idea stupid, I'll call it stupid."

"No." Midoriya denied with a shake of his head. "No, this is deeper. You have an issue with me and I want to know why? What did I ever do to you!?" He asked as he put a hand to his chest.

"You coming to this fucking school." Bakugou specified. "You trying to act like you aren't the same quirkless little loser that you were four years ago! A hand me down quirk from All Might will never change that."

"Oh my God." Midoriya laughed in disbelief. "Why won't you grow up, Kacchan! How on earth you can feel threatened by me is something I can't even try and understand!"

Bakugou's eyebrows raised. "Threatened by you? Oh no, Deku. I can't be threatened by nothing."

You gasped as you snapped to look at the blond. "What the hell!"

"That's not very nice, Bakugou." Todoroki let out with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.

Bakugou just stared at Midoriya. "I preferred you in middle school. At least then you knew your place."

Midoriya didn't move for a moment before he slowly started to nod his head. Almost like he understood where Bakugou was coming from. However, not even a second later, Bakugou was on the floor and there was a flash of light.

Midoriya had pinned Bakugou to the ground as he raised his right hand up and punched the blond again with little to no humanity in his eyes. The green haired boy, seemed more determined to kill than anything.

"MIDORIYA!" Kirishima shouted as he tried to pull the green haired boy off of Bakugou.

Bakugou grinned as he laughed with a bloody smile but just managed to get Midoriya on the side of his face. A spark of his palm was aimed at Midoriya's face but Midoriya easily dodged with One for All, before punching him square in the nose.

Suddenly Shinso's binding cloth wrapped around Midoriya as he was pulled off of Bakugou. He frowned with a similar expression to Aizawa Sensei. Sero quickly managed to tape up Bakugou to keep the blond away from Midoriya as well. With the both of them restrained and restricted from each other.

Midoriya let out a frustrated growl as he fought against Shinso's binding. Bakugou let out a laugh as he grinned. "You punch like shit!"

"FUCK YOU!" Midoriya shouted at the blond with thin small pupils as he untangled himself and walked out of the common room.

-Glitch1d

#midoriya izuku angst #midoriya izuku #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #kirishima x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya angst #tw angst

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

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

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

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lgbtlaughs · 2 months

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OH MY GOD HIIIIII WELCOME BACK 🐳🐳

hello! guess who's trans now

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matthewtkachuk · 4 months

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bad at love

Breaking your brother's only unspoken rule—don't date his teammates—has never been an issue in your adult life. Until now.

pairing: jt compher x reader

warnings: angstttt, smut, a minor car accident with mentions of injury (broken bone/concussion), and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc. etc.)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: hiiiiii @comphy-and-cozy i'm your super secret fic exchange writer! sorry this is a day late and a dollar short. one of these days @wyattjohnston is going to perma-ban me from participating in exchanges. until that date she remains my ever loyal editor. mad thanks to @thomasschabot for reading it first and telling me they loved it even though they're contractually obligated to do so and for physically being there when the fic idea popped into my head <3

It’s not the first time you’ve shown up at your big brother’s house with a face full of tears and a couple bags full of all your worldly possessions. Despite your best efforts and well intentions—if you had to guess—it likely won’t be the last.

It is the first time you’ve done so with him being a married man, and so it’s your sister-in-law whose comfort you really seek and are expecting to pop up behind the slowly opening door in front of you.

Unfortunately for you, and for the poor soul you really don’t know that well, it’s not Kenzy who opens the door but the over-the-summer pick-up from Colorado.

If it had been any of the other, more tenured of your brother's teammates, you might have been waved inside with nothing more than a sympathetic glance and an unspoken ‘again?’.

Instead, JT’s look of utter confusion has quickly evolved into something more akin to a quiet rage, and you’re reminded that he is a big brother himself. The look is familiar to you, having inspired a similar one on Dylan’s face more times than you can count.

It’s been a really fucking long day, and you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to have any sort of reckoning with some guy you barely know in your brothers drive way.

JT’s in the middle of some sort of sentence that begins and also ends with “What—” as you none too gently push past him in order to finally gain entry to the house.

The mix of sympathy and feigned disinterest that greets you on the faces of your brothers teammates who occupy the large sitting room has your stomach rolling uncomfortably. It seemed like the entirety of the Detroit Red Wings were always around to witness your spectacular failures. What must they think, watching you disappear with the next great love of your life, only to reappear once again with bags packed in a manner of months?

You could hazard a guess at what your brother thinks, the variants of ‘I told you so’ that live and die on his tongue without ever leaving his lips. He wraps you up in an infamous Larkin hug that serves to fix a tiny crack of your broken heart, and so you revel in it like you used to revel in the comfort when the pain you felt was because of falling off the monkey bars when you were a kid.

But, he has a house full of hockey players to entertain and Kenzy has a glass of wine with your name on it. Dylan returns to the living room and you slide out to the back porch with your sister-in-law, briefly catching the eye of the one who let you in. You don’t see the telltale signs of judgment reflecting back at you, but maybe something else entirely.

Outside you pour your soul alongside the Malbec. Curled up on the wicker chair under a blanket you tell Kenzy about Owen and the promises he failed to keep. She oohs and ahs at the appropriate times, commiserating without belittling you.

By the end of the night your heart—and the bottle of wine—feels a little lighter. There’s a little less shame as you make yourself at home in the spare bedroom that might as well permanently be yours.

Owen visits you in your sleep, breaking your heart again and again until his face morphs into one with a ginger beard and kind eyes.

Those kind eyes become a fixture in your post breakup life. If he’s not hanging around your brother's house, he’s bumping into you at the local coffee shop you frequent when you’re in Detroit. If he’s at neither, he’s obviously at the games you attend in support of Dylan alongside Kenzy.

At Dylan’s, you barely speak to his teammates and friends beyond simple pleasantries. At your coffee shop, it starts at small talk but grows to be considerable conversations that dip just below surface level.

It’s at Little Caesars Arena where he really endears himself to you though. Warm ups are arguably your favorite part of the games you attend. You like to look out at the signs, from the heartwarming to the obscene—picking out your favorites and giggling about the latter with your sister in law.

Dylan’s always been really good about tossing kids pucks, and his big bleeding heart only grew larger when he got the red C strapped to his chest. Some of the other guys, even some of the so-called vets are less good about it.

JT’s just like Dylan, maybe even a little kinder hearted. He takes the time to read the signs that are meant for him, never turns down a trade for a puck and even gives a stick to a kid whose sign says he came all the way from Denver to watch him, his favorite player, play in Detroit.

It warms your heart.

So much so you don’t even notice you’re staring until Dylan’s slamming himself into the boards in front of you to startle his wife. She rolls her eyes and calls him a name not worth repeating while you try to pretend like you weren’t just fixated on his teammate.

The thing is Dylan has never outright said his teammates are off limits. Not since you were a teenager making eyes at his USNTDP teammates anyway.

The memory keeps you from looking JT’s way the rest of the warmups, but once the puck drops your eyes can’t help but wander.

Wandering appears to be your specialty, considering you’ve gotten yourself lost in the underbelly of the arena.

Your first mistake was leaving Ken’s side—she was your ferryman, guiding you down the River Styx, and without her, you were lost in Hell.

Were you overdramatic? Maybe. Were you lost with no hope of getting out? Still overdramatic, but definitely a possibility.

The walls begin to look the same, and you’re half worried you’ve accidentally fallen into a back room or something stupid when you stumble upon the one who caught your eye earlier.

‘Stumble upon’ is a gracious way of saying you absolutely smack into him and fall on your ass.

He hauls you up effortlessly with one hand and your skin burns beneath his grasp.

“What are you doing?” you both say in near unison before he laughs.

“I was getting my shoulder checked out, what are you doing all the way over here? Are you lost?”

Regardless of what he was doing, JT obviously has more of a reason to be found wandering the halls of the arena. And he’s right, you’re most definitely lost but you play it off like he’s crazy.

“Me? Lost? No, I know exactly where we are,” you bluff.

JT’s eyebrows raise and he nods slowly. “Which is…?”

Well, he’s called your bluff but he also gave you a key context clue. “Near the athletic trainer, obviously.”

He laughs again and it has your cheeks feeling hot.

“Okay fine, maybe I’m a little bit lost and maybe I was contemplating how I’d be trapped down here forever before you knocked me over.”

“I’m sorry, but you ran into me.” You roll your eyes and begin to argue, but he doesn’t let that happen. “Doesn’t matter, I can help you find your way out.”

You swoon dramatically, only half joking as you reply “My hero.”

Now that you’re no longer focused on navigating your way out of Pan’s Labyrinth, you’re free to focus on your close proximity to JT. Based on the way his eyes dart between meeting your own and staring at your lips, you assume he’s just as aware.

Is this not what you’ve been wanting since you knocked on Dylan’s door? But that’s part of the problem, and you’re sure JT is thinking the same. Not only is your brother his teammate—and you’ve always been off limits to your brother's teammates to your chagrin growing up—but he’s JT’s captain, too. There’s a million ways this thing could go wrong and blow up in both of your faces.

You could get caught, and be forced to sit with Dyl’s disappointment. You could hurt the one person in your life who consistently showed up for you and loved you and cared for you.

Not to mention you could risk it all for nothing—could crash and burn spectacularly as you were wont to do. Could fuck it all up with not only your brother, but JT too and be left with nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone behind your brother’s back, but you had a sneaking suspicion things would be worse than they were when you were 15 to his 16.

Ultimately you decide fuck it, because what’s life without a little risk?

Tentatively, you slide your hand over the rough beard covering his jaw. When he doesn’t flinch or move away from you, you lean in closer.

He’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving closer, letting you make the first move.

It’s probably a terrible fucking idea, but you’ve never been accused of being someone who makes good decisions when it comes to romantic partners.

The first press of your lips to his is cautious, barely a brushing of your mouths, just to get a taste. Quickly you become a woman obsessed. Unable to get enough, the kisses turn frenetic, bordering on sloppy.

He reciprocates in kind, his mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands grasp and pull and hold. His very essence consumes you, taking over all of your five senses and pulling noises from you that you didn’t know existed.

If your arm burned from his grasp earlier, your entire body has caught fire.

You’re unaware or probably more accurately uncaring of your public nature, despite your earlier hesitance. Now you just want more and more and more of JT, as much as he is willing to give and maybe even a little more.

He seems to be on the same page, entire body wrapping around you and pulling you deeper and deeper.

Unconsciously your hands begin to pull at the waistband of his pants and it’s then that the two of you finally separate.

You’re worried you’re going to find regret in his eyes and excuses on his tongue, but he’s just looking at you intently.

“Not like this,” he says. “Not here.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you protest, but he shushes you with his mouth.

“It’ll be worth the wait.”

And worth the wait it is.

It's sexy at first. Clandestine meetings in dark hallways, sneaking in and out of JT’s apartment that’s on the same floor as Jake Walman’s, covert texts and quiet phone calls where you get off on the sound of each other's voices.

It doesn’t take long for you to want more, though. To fantasize about not just what his calloused hands can do to your body, but what it would be like to hold one in your own while walking down the street. To show up at a home game and have everyone know you were there to support not only your brother, but JT too.

It’s a fantasy that is only stoked by the comfort you feel walking around JT’s apartment in just his t-shirt with his number on the shoulder. By nights spent together at his dinner table, on his couch, in his bed. By sweet texts and stupid memes and random photos of things that made him think of you.

You don’t dare speak your desires out loud though. For fear of JT not wanting the same thing or for fear that he would, you’re not quite sure.

It’s a tough situation to be in. One where you’re worried you're heading to a fork in the road that has JT on one side and your brother on the other.

You have no delusions about the two paths eventually forging back together again, know that you’ve come dangerously close to that intersection marked with a big fat caution sign.

Probably you should speak to JT, get on the same page about where you’ve been and where you’re going. Following that, assuming he secretly yearns for the same thing you do, you should probably then come clean to Dylan.

Probably you should do a lot of things, but unfortunately what is done in the dark always comes to the light and sometimes it happens quicker than you can make your mind up.

A road win presumably has JT in a good mood. He’s texted you letting you know he’ll be home before midnight, requesting your presence in his bed.

It’s an easy yes, considering you’re already in the aforementioned bed. It’s nice to get out of Dylan’s house, of the suffocating feeling that you’re intruding in someone else’s home, on someone else’s life.

There’s really nothing particularly sexy about the way he finds you, but his eyes darken upon finding you curled up in his bed just the same. You’re not attempting to recreate a sexy pose from a boudoir photo shoot, and one of JT’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts aren’t exactly fancy lingerie.

That doesn’t stop him from dropping his bag dramatically and stripping from his dress shirt and pants.

“Awfully presumptuous,” you say as if the very fact that you’re in his bed in not much more clothing than he is.

He shrugs, “Not presuming anything. I’m fine if you just want to sleep, but I’m sure as shit not going to sleep in those dress pants. Bad enough I had to sit through a plane ride like that.”

His tone is teasing, but the implication that he would be just as fine falling asleep beside you as anything else pretty well takes all the fight out of you.

“C’mere,” you say instead of a catchy comeback, lifting the covers and inviting him into his own bed.

He wastes no time sliding in beside you and curling up around your body. “Hi.”

You snort and hide your face in his neck. “Corny.”

“I’ll show you corny,” he says, but you shush him by pulling his face closer to yours until your lips brush.

“Thought I was presumptuous,” he says upon breaking the kiss.

You roll your eyes—“Shut up.”—and kiss him again.

He doesn’t manage to keep his mouth shut, but at least this time it’s to slip his tongue into your mouth.

The temperature of the room rapidly increases—between the weight of his body covering your own and your body’s reaction to his fervid kiss, you feel the need to lose at least one item of clothing.

“I need—“

Luckily he quickly understands what you’re trying to accomplish by pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting off of you long enough to assist in removing it from your body.

He makes a noise of appreciation at the bare skin revealed to him before diving back into your lips, this time with one hand cupping your right breast.

Appreciative noises of your own build in your throat when that hand slides down your body to dip into your underwear. It’s teasing touches at first, until you reciprocate by cupping him through his boxer-briefs.

Finally you both shed that last remaining layer, uncaring of where they end up in the bedroom. There’s a brief pause while he rolls on a condom and then he’s entering your body like it was made for him and him alone.

There’s no rush about his pace, just gentle thrusts and soft moans and sweet praises.

Sex with JT is so good, better than with anyone else you’ve ever been with. He’s the very opposite of a lazy, selfish lover. It’s like your needs and your pleasure come first, and you certainly do too.

The positioning of your bodies is so intimate, bodies close, mouths slotted over each other with intermingling breaths.

You worry you’re getting too caught up in that intimacy, possibly running in a direction not quite warranted and so you seek to depersonalize it a touch.

“Let me,” you say softly while gently pressing a hand against his shoulder, indicating you want him to lay on his back. He moves willingly, even helping you climb atop him.

It feels just as good with you on top, and the bit of distance between your upper halves means you can breathe a bit better.

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to tilt your head back and focus on your movements and the feel of his bruising grip on your hips.

Feeling the pressure build in your stomach, you slide a hand down your abdomen to where your bodies meet while the other grasps your breast just for something to hold on to. The added friction to your clit is pulling you closer and closer as you move on top of him.

He’s staring up at you with lust filled eyes, mouth open in a mix of awe and pleasure. A look of almost disbelief on his face. His hands are still on your hips, now helping the movement of your body on his when your body lights up like the fourth of July with your orgasm.

It’s hard to keep moving while in the throes of pleasure, but it’s like JT can read your mind, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you until he finishes too.

Your whole body tingles as you collapse on top of him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapping around your body. Leisurely you kiss for a minute, until your heart rate returns to normal and you feel like you’re not likely to fall over when going to the bathroom to clean up.

When you return, you’ve slipped on one of his shirts once again. There's a soft look on his face as you crawl into bed beside him. It only cracks when you quietly whisper, “should we order pizza?”

“I think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he laughs.

The room is quiet, filled with only the sounds of your breathing and occasional kissing as you wait for the delivery.

Finally the doorbell rings. “I got it,” you tell JT and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants before pulling the drawstring so they don’t fall.

You don’t bother to check the peephole, certain it’s your food which turns out to be a giant mistake.

Not only is it not your pizza, it’s also the last person you want to catch you with sex hair in oversized clothing that obviously belongs to the guy you’ve just had sex with.

Dylan’s mouth has dropped so far down it would be comical if it wasn’t also horrifying.

“Dylan I–” you start to explain yourself but pause midway through. How could you even begin to explain?

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, hands curling at his side. “Actually no, I can’t believe this from JT, I can definitely believe this from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap.

Your brother laughs sardonically, “Well you’re not exactly known for making the right decisions when it comes to relationships.”

JT exits his room, no doubt lured by the loud voices and the lack of food. “Hey man, come on, let's talk about this like adults.”

“Like adults?” Dylan is incensed in a way you’ve never seen before. “Now you want to talk about things like adults? The time to talk was before you started sleeping with my sister behind my back.”

“I’m sorry you found out like this–” JT continues to try to defend himself, defend you while you stand there speechless.

Dylan interrupts, “Sorry I found out or sorry you got caught?”

JT goes to respond but Dylan cuts him off again. “I trusted you dude. I told you she was off limits, and not only did you ignore me, you went behind my back.” He then turns to you. “And you? My teammate? Seriously? You couldn’t have chosen literally any other douchebag to treat you wrong?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. “JT doesn’t treat me bad!”

A different kind of look crosses your older brother's face then. “Well when he does, don’t come running back to my house and crying to me.”

Dylan slams the door and you sit in the quiet of the room for a minute with your ears ringing.

The reality of the situation hits you.

“I can’t stay there, God not only am I a fuck up but I’m homeless too.”

“You can always stay here,” JT offers and it really bothers you that you can’t tell if he wants you to, or if he’s just offering because of his hand in the most recent blow up of your life.

“I’m pretty sure his baby sister shacking up with his teammate he doesn’t want her with isn’t exactly going to win me any favors with Dyl,” you reply.

“Well I’m pretty sure he’d rather you be here than living on the street.”

Ordinarily you think that would probably be true but the look on his face when you opened JT’s door is seared into your mind. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

In the end you do move your things into JT’s apartment. Kenzy is the accomplice to your crime, helping you pack your things while the team has practice, wrapping you in her arms and telling you that he just needs some time.

“He loves you,” she says.

You’re not so sure.

That’s probably overdramatic. You’re sure he loves you, and you sure hope he forgives you. You’re just worried that this time you’ve both done and said things you can’t take back and you’re not sure how things will move forward from here.

It’s not all bad though.

Living with JT is surprisingly easy, even right one might say. You fit directly into each other's lives like perfect puzzle pieces. His strict routines of practices and morning skates and games—both home and away—allow you the space to complete your own work on your own time. Cooking pregame meals together and curling up beside him when he takes his pregame naps quickly become some of your favorite activities.

You dance around the feelings talk, never quite broaching the subject. But it can’t feel this right if it’s all one sided, all in your head, right?

He’s even kind enough to let you drive his SUV even though the price tag makes you nervous every time you’re behind the wheel. You’re not a bad driver, as evidenced by the fact JT lets you drive the Audi, but you are possibly on this side of over cautious as a result of a bad car accident in high school.

Three home games after your fight with Dylan and approximately zero words or text messages exchanged between the two of you, you find yourself in the passenger seat.

“I could have taken the bus,” you protest weakly, almost knowing exactly what JT’s response will be.

“Over my dead body,” he laughs, eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the traffic in front of him. “Just pick me up after practice or text me if you’re still out and I’ll find a ride.”

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded at the arena, of course I’ll be there after you’re done.”

It’s oddly domestic, kissing JT across the console and then sliding into the driver’s seat that he vacates. You wait as he grabs his gear and walks away, you do really love watching him walk away.

The moment is cut short by catching a glimpse of your brother's vehicle. He’s not in it, obviously already inside the arena, but the sight of it makes your stomach clench all the same.

Thoughts of Dylan and his disappointment and worry that he’ll never forgive you flood your mind the entire drive. So much so that when the next light turns green, you let off the gas without realizing that there is a larger SUV running the red.

It all happens so fast. The screeching of tires, the crunching of metal, the pop of airbags going off and then a blinding pain in your wrist.

In the end, you’re pushed into the wrong lane of traffic, the other vehicle damn near in the passenger seat you occupied only fifteen minutes ago. There’s a distinct ringing in your ears and you offhandedly wonder if this is what it feels like to get boarded.

“Are you okay? I’m calling 911.” The words sound like they’re underwater, and it takes you several seconds to realize they’re being spoken to you. Turning your head to the side, you try to get the words out to say you’re fine, but you’re blocked by the airbag that has gone off near your head.

Emergency services come quickly, a perk of living in Detroit you suppose. Embarrassingly, it takes the jaws of life to peel off the driver's side door to get you out. A cop takes your statement and then you end up in the back of an ambulance. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, one raised eyebrow from the female paramedic and the idea that you’ve probably broken your wrist has you agreeing to the ER visit.

It’s then that someone asks you if there’s anyone you want to call. Heartbreakingly, your first thought is Dylan and your second thought is you’re not sure he’ll pick up.

Your third thought is JT and his SUV that you’ve probably totaled.

One of the paramedics helps you dial the equipment manager’s number, the one you were instructed to only ever use in case of emergencies. If ever there was a reason…

When he picks up the phone, you have to explain that you’ve gotten into a tiny fender bender and if you could please speak with JT and yes I mean JT not Dylan.

“Are you okay?” JT all but demands when he picks up the phone.

“I’m totally fine,” you fib, and then concede based on that same female paramedic once again raising an eyebrow. “Okay so I might have broken my wrist but–”

“Which hospital are you going to?” he interrupts.

You tell him, but try to say, “It’s okay you don’t have to–”

He interrupts again, “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up quicker than you can ask how he’s going to get there without the car that you’ve wrecked.

True to his word, he’s sitting on a chair in your hospital room when you return from getting an x-ray. He stands abruptly upon your entrance and takes the three strides to stand in front of you before hesitating, like you’re made of glass.

You take matters into your own hands and slide your good arm around his back, careful to not jostle your injured wrist. There's a slight tremor to his body that you feel run through yours.

“I’m okay,” you say comfortingly, rubbing your good hand along his back before pausing. “Your car though….”

The tears are already starting to pool in your waterline as he pulls back.

His hands slide to cup your jaw as he speaks seriously, “I don’t give a damn about the car. It can be replaced, you can’t.” A tear slips out before you can stop it and he brushes it away with his thumb before kissing you softly. “I care about you. So much. And that phone call scared the shit out of me.”

Despite the less than stellar background and circumstances, his words have your heart leaping in your chest. “I really care about you too,” you whisper and kiss him again.

“Where is she?” you hear coming down the hall and it occurs to you that your brother is still your emergency contact.

“Did you tell him?” you ask JT who promptly shakes his head.

You don’t even have time to step back from JT’s embrace before Dylan comes crashing into the room. JT wisely pulls away and gives Dylan the space to place his hands on your shoulders and scan for any signs of injury.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him but the words feel hollow considering they’re the first you’ve said to him in more than a week. “Broken wrist they’re gonna cast and probably a concussion. Can’t say the same for the car.”

Eerily similar to JT, Dylan replies, “Cars can be replaced–”

“But I can’t,” you say in unison with him. “I know, JT said the same thing.”

It’s like Dylan remembers his teammate then, eyes sliding over to where JT stands and then back down to your slowly purpling wrist.

The room is silent except for the sounds of medical equipment and the faint sounds occurring outside the door.

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison with your brother again.

“No, I'm sorry,” he says first. “I’m your big brother and I’ve seen you get your heart broken too many times. I’m always going to worry about you but I was out of line.”

“I’m sorry we went behind your backs and I’m sorry you found out that way. We should have just talked to you, I should have just talked to you.”

“Truce?” he asks, like you’re 10 and 11 again, fighting over something silly and trivial.

“Truce,” you confirm, hissing when you knock your broken wrist as you pull him in for a hug.

Later, when you’ve gotten over the guilt of totaling JT’s barely used Audi and the cast on your wrist is long gone, it’ll be a fun story to tell at parties. About how it took an idiot running a red light for you to define your relationship with JT and to reconcile with your brother.

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl x reader #jt compher fic #shelb writes

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starry-bi-sky · 10 months

Text

part THREE of the "Clone Danny" au

the first part is linked above

SO for the "cloning" thing. Danny finding out still occurs in the same way as @minnesota-fats described it as going in their post.

In all honesty it was never his parents' intention to clone Bruce. They were intending to clone Jack instead, actually. But they made Danny shortly after they met up with their old college friend Bruce and they guess some of his DNA ended up on Jack and the hair they used was Bruce's instead.

They never thought to inform Bruce of this mistake.

And Danny? Danny is furious after he gets over his shock. Mainly over the fact that his parents have been lying to him for the last 14 years of his fucking life (i imagine he had his accident when he was 13 instead). He's more angry over that than being a clone. He can't do anything about that. He'll be upset over it later, but for now he's furious over the lie.

He goes and stays with Tucker for the night, and brings his vigilante stuff with him. he tells Tucker that he's a clone. He texts Sam and she comes over for a sleepover. He even tells Ellie later on when he's had time to sleep on it.

After the rage fades though he just... feels unsure, and a little lost. He wants to reach out to this Bruce Wayne guy and tell him that he's been cloned. It's a violation that Danny knows from when he met Ellie. God he loves her like a sister but it doesnt change the fact that he was fucking cloned. If he was Wayne, he'd want to know.

It's as if Danny found out that he was born through a sperm donor and now wanted to reach out to his biological father. but at the same time he was scared of Wayne's reaction. Wayne is a rich civilian man with a business and many kids. He has his life and family, and Danny doesn't want to.. to intrude on that with his own existence.

So he doesn't reach out. Even though he is so tempted to ask Sam if he could come with when she's being dragged into some Wayne Gala by her parents that they managed to get into. instead, he denies her invite, and she tells danny about bruce when he comes back. he sounds like a good guy. This is only backed up by his deep dive into bruce wayne and hearing all about his charities and businesses and its drive to make the Gotham better.

(Bruce Wayne is the only billionaire Sam actually likes, even if she looks down on his personality. She tells Danny about his grumpy youngest son who Sam shares a bit in common with. he's a year or so younger than them.)

It makes Danny feel worse about not telling him.

(danny's obsession, despite popular belief, is not protecting the town. Its family. he can never have enough family)

Of course this one-sided avoidance completely fucking blows up in his face, as normal, when he comes home and finds Bruce fucking Wayne sitting in his kitchen with his parents happily chatting over their college days. it was mainly Jack talking.

"Danbo! You're just in time, our old friend Bruce dropped by for a visit!" Jack exclaimed cheerfully.

Danny made direct eye contact with bruce, and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

"Bruce Wayne is sitting in my kitchen." he says calmly to the door, internally freaking out. And then opens the door again. Bruce Wayne is still. there. looking vaguely amused. His eyebrow raised in an elegant arch

its weird. He looks nothing like Dan. Its comforting.

danny is pale in the face and he smiles painfully, his teeth grinding. "hiiiiii" he says through his teeth.

"your son doesn't look too happy to see me" bruce jokes, and danny closes the door quietly. his long hair is falling over his face in strands. he prays that bruce doesnt notice the resemblance.

"he's just being shy" maddie says, giving danny a reprimanding look

danny shoots her a "what the fuck" look in response, and keeps his head turned away from him while walking by. there's a small boy sitting next to bruce with tanned skin and emerald eyes. he looks like danny. he looks like bruce.

he must be Damian.

"I have homework, i'll be up in my room" he practically announces to the room, and takes the stairs two at a time. if you asked him, he wasn't running.

he calls tucker, trying not to yell.

"Bruce Wayne is sitting in my kitchen"

aaaand.... my fingers are freezing off thanks to the ac so im gonna leave that there for now. I'll go more into phantom meeting the vigilantes or the justice league tmrw. hopefully.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

#danny phantom au #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom crossover #danny fenton is a clone #danny is not okay okay #danny phantom is not and never will be the ghost king #not in my aus at least lmao #it aint relevant

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mins-fins · 13 days

Text

EPISODE 12 : ❛ yn and mark, mark and yn ❜

Mark doesn't know why his head immediately shot up when he heard his phone ring.

For starters, it's one in the morning, who in their right mind is calling him at one in the morning? Second, he isn't expecting a call from anyone, so when his phone does ring, he almost throws it at the wall as the irritating ringtone repeats over and over.

Mark groans and stares at the ceiling, not even turning on the light as he feels the bedside table for his phone, his still vibrating phone. He scowls in annoyance when he can't find it after the first thirty seconds of not feeling his phone, so he sits up, much to his own dismay, and picks up his phone.

He blinks at the screen, rubbing his eyes as he swears he reads the contact name wrong. It's you, you're calling him. Why the hell are you calling at one in the morning? A puzzled expression crosses his face, and he contemplates on if he should actually pick up.

But after what seems like forever (in Mark's metrics), he sighs and answers the phone. "Hello?"

"Hiiiiii Markie".

Mark immediately picks up on the way your words are slurred, but he doesn't comment on it right away, laying back down onto his comfy duvet. "Hi Yn, good morning" He responds, and you giggle, you giggle, Mark finds that hilarious.

"Morning? It's only.. wait it is morning! One am! Wow you're so smart!"

Mark snickers. "Basic knowledge, Yn".

"Uh huh" You say on the other line, a hiccup accompanying your words.

Mark furrows his eyebrows, thinking this would be the right time to bring this up. "Are you drunk?" He finally asks, and you giggle again on the other line, seemingly finding the question hilarious. You hiccup again before answering the question.

"Sort of?"

"That's not a yes or no" Mark is quick to reply, and you giggle again, a sound Mark missed more than anything. "Why'd you call me at one in the morning anyway?"

"I like the way your voice sounds".

The blatantly honest response makes Mark snicker, a snicker you silently gasp at on the other end of the line. "Is that you or the alcohol talking?" He inquires immediately, holding his phone with his shoulder as he begins picking his nails.

"I don't know.." You mutter on the other end, the sound of something shuffling slightly is sounded in Mark's ears. "Just wanted to confess that I guess".

"So you called me while I was asleep?"

"Yeah?"

"How were you so sure I'd pick up?"

You chuckle, as if that was one of the stupidest questions he could've ever asked you. "I wasn't, I was just really hoping you would answer, it'd would've been embarrassing if you didn't".

Mark pauses, collecting his words. How does he say this without sounding like a pining, desperate loser?

Well— he can't exactly avoid that.

"If I'm being honest, I was kinda hoping you would call.."

The statement is met with immediate silence, silence that punches Mark in the gut and spits on him as he falls. He almost rips off his nail with how anxious he is, but he doesn't comment on your silence. It's like that for a few minutes before you let out a small giggle of disbelief.

"Don't lie to me, Mark".

"I would never do such a thing, I'm being honest, maybe you should be too".

Mark wishes he regretted saying that, but he doesn't, he just wants you to speak your mind, he wants to hear your thoughts, he wants to hear how you feel from you. "Oh? You want me to be honest with you, Mark?"

Your tone of voice makes his stomach flip, it's not because he likes your voice, though, it is definitely not because of that. "Yeah, honesty is key, Yn".

"Honesty is key huh?" You click your tongue, a habit of yours that has made Mark dizzy since forever, you always look so good doing it, he can't even begin to imagine how you look right now. "Is telling you I missed you too honest? Or.. hm, is saying that maybe I'm not so over you honest enough for you?"

Though Mark chuckles at that response, he can't help the way his face heats up, thank god this is a phone call and he doesn't have to see you face to face (for now.. that is), he would never live it down. He can't believe you just said that, and all of this at one in the morning too? You really are full of surprises.

"No, I think I'd like to know more, actually".

"Ah, your greedy".

Mark raises an eyebrow at the words, but he doesn't confirm or deny the claim, just snickers. "What if I am? It's you after all".

"Aww, am I special?"

"Very".

You giggle again, you seem to enjoy giggling, Mark wants to make you giggle again, no, scratch that, he wants to hear you giggle again, it's so cute, you're so cute. You love the words, and Mark loves that you love the words.

You two always do this, huh? It's always with you. Yn and Mark, Mark and Yn..

Why did you guys even breakup?

Once the question crosses Mark's mind, he wants to punch himself in the face, and he's glad you're not there to see the way his face fall and his hands clench into fists. He feels like such an idiot, how is he still asking himself questions like this?

He knows why, he knows exactly why, you both know exactly why.

"It's late, Yn, you should sleep, and stop drinking".

"Do you really care that much for me?" You ask, your tone teasing, tormenting, another punch to Mark's already weakened gut.

"Yes, I do, now go to sleep Yn".

"Alright then, good nigh— morning, Mark, sleep well".

When you hang up, Mark stares at his phone for what seems like hours, he's not proud of himself for staring at your contact for as long as he does.

He can't sleep well, he's up all night thinking about you.

previous masterlist next

taglist 𓏧 ↳ @junjiie, @cosmiicdream, @prettyrenjunn, @multifandomania, @luvkyu, @x-alightinthedark, @haocovr, @joonggphilia, @choerubies, @enthusiastofmanythings, @doejaejung, @iluvkyo, @yawnzbf, @haechansbbg, @ldrei, @dkmyman, @lampcults, @monstaxpuppy, @dreamandback, @moonslie04

#☆ endless nameless 마크..#mark lee #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark lee nct #mark nct #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #nct smau #nct 127 smau #nct dream smau #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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shmaptainwrites · 4 months

Note

Hiiiiii againnn its meee coming back to annoy you again :D

I saw you extended your accepting date until the 9th, and I know I literally just requested something, but would you be down to write a blurb for an angry love confession in the pouring rain? I'm a sucker for that cliché trope, and I love your writing so so much <3

Once again a female reader if you don't mind 😭

bestie you've freaking GOT IT and sometimes cliché tropes are the best, really who are we to judge btw i also put carl davis' pride and prejudice suite iii on repeat while writing this for ~vibes~

Pairing: Fitzwilliam Darcy x fem!Reader

Warnings: scandalous behaviour for the 1800s i guess, minor height description (shorter than Colin Firth and Matthew MacFayden, they're both like 6'2)

The Truth

Normally when the rain was pouring down from above you'd make it a point to look for cover, but what was the point in that anymore. You let the cold water from the sky envelope you, absorb into your skin, soak your clothes. If you just focused on the rain you wouldn't have to focus on anything else.

If it were just you, alone in the world perhaps that would be the case, and although it felt like it sometimes, that didn't mean you'd get peace when you wanted it.

His voice was muffled at first, but you supposed that was your own fault, too focused on other things to bring your mind to hear what he was saying, but as he approached closer you could hear him clearer.

"What are you doing?! It's pouring outside!"

You could hear the urgency in his tone, but couldn't bring yourself to feel it.

"I'm well aware of that," you called back.

"Then why in God's name are you out here?"

He was behind you now, you could tell, his voice so close you could just about feel his warm breath cut past the cold air surrounding you.

You turned around and shook your head with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

"I don't know," you admitted.

"Well come inside then," he insisted, offering an arm to you. "We'll both get sick if we stay out here any longer."

"I don't care."

"You don't care?" he frowned. "What is going on? You don't seem like yourself."

"Lying can do that to a person," you said simply and turned away.

"Lying?" you could almost hear the exasperation in his voice. "Please, I don't understand."

"Of course you don't, why would you? You don't feel the same," you mumbled to yourself.

"I really must insist you explain what is going on," he said quite firmly.

"I can't!" you shook your head and wrapped an arm around your waist, the other covering your mouth. "Please, Mr. Darcy, just...just leave me."

There was silence for a moment and you thought maybe he head left, the downpour masking the sound of his footsteps, but then a voice spoke up.

"No. I will not leave you."

"What is it you want from me?" you turned back to him again and asked angirly.

"I want the truth."

"The truth is that I love you!" you looked down at your feet, knowing you wouldn't be able to meet his gaze. "I love you and I don't think you feel the slightest ounce of that towards me."

"And what would give you that impression?" you heard the squish of wet grass and mud beneath his feet as he came closer to you. "Because if I, in any way, have made you feel like that, it must be rectified."

You finally looked up at him, tears mixed with raindrops runnig down your face.

"Fitzwilliam, please, I-I can't bear to have my heart broken," you whispered. "If this is just kindness I-I-"

You weren't given a chance to finish your sentence as he lifted your face to look up at him, his hands were warm against your cold skin and out of instinct your eyes fluttered shut, just as he pressed his lips on yours.

You gripped tightly onto his forearms, bringing him as close as you could, wishing nothing more in the world than for that moment to last forever.

When you pulled apart, his forehead still resting on your own, you let out a small breathy chuckle, letting one of your hands come up and hold his cheek.

"You never said anything," you whispered, "and with all this-this talk of suitresses...I-I thought I was being foolish."

"I must be the fool for not saying anything earlier," he lifted his head only to kiss your forehead, and bring you in for a proper embrace. It felt as if you were meant to be joined and knit together as one and it reminded you that in the end, it was always important to tell the truth.

#mimi's mini blurbs #fitzwilliam darcy #mr darcy #fitzwilliam darcy x reader #mr darcy x reader #pride and prejudice fanfic #pride and prejudice fanfiction #p&p #bbc pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice 1995 #pride and prejudice 2005 #pride and prejudice #jane austen #jane austen fanfiction

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noroi1000 · 1 year

Note

HIIIIII im back again about gojo traveling from the future can we get a fluff it has been said he was 4 hours in the future what would high-school gojo do during those past few remaining hours? Would adult Satoru confront him?

In a few years 2

"I know that look..." the adult Gojo said, watching the ajar wardrobe door in front of him.

You wondered why he said that.

But before you could ask him what he meant, you felt his teeth gently digging into the junction of your neck and shoulder. You closed your eyes letting out a soft moan. So was the slight pain that shot through your body, and the pleasure of his lips on your skin.

Why was your body so hot every time he touched you?

Why did you love even his little touch in that moment?

Your husband smiled even more when he knew the heart of the man in the wardrobe was beating a little faster.

Well, he really wanted to see how his younger self would react to this if he continued.

He could start undressing and caressing you right now. But because of you, he won't.

He couldn't live knowing he was doing something to you in front of a teenager.

So I guess he'll give up.

Even if he wouldn't mind being watched by someone, especially if that person is from his past. But you wouldn't like it.

So he could choose. Or he goes on and doesn't tell you that someone is looking at you, and then he will live the rest of his life knowing he didn't tell you the truth. Or he'll just tell you that his younger self is there.

In your condition, a confrontation between them would be better.

Later you can yell at him or try to beat him up. So talking is probably best.

He tried to remember how old he was when he picked up the gold watch.

Even though after returning to the year he was in, he didn't remember much of what happened in 2018. However, he did remember that he had traveled 11 years into the future.

So, logically, his person in the closet must have been 17 years old.

Perhaps soon 18 years old.

And basically he couldn't remember if he would remember the person who confronted him.

The conversation would be pretty cool.

Especially for you. That would dispel your doubts that you saw "someone like him when he was a teenager."

Your husband's hands suddenly disappeared from your body, and he turned you around.

He guided your face towards the wardrobe with his fingers.

And he started whispering something in your ear.

Young Gojo began to sweat in fear of being noticed. Even though he was older, he already noticed it. He couldn't think about how you might react to him.

At least it was better than wandering aimlessly around the city for 11 hours. Sooner or later someone would take an interest in him, because it's rare for someone to see a teenager walking around for 11 hours in one place, back and forth.

So I guess it's better to talk to you and the older him than to attract the attention of strangers and bear their eyes on him.

"Get out of there." He heard.

He looked at your faces.

The older one smiled slightly as he looked at him, and you were a little shocked as you stared at the large wooden piece of furniture in front of you.

Swallowing, he pushed the door open with his hand, parting the inside of the wardrobe.

And as he left there, he straightened up, finally being able to stand up without stooping.

You widened your eyes further as your husband smiled at the younger one, keeping his hands on your waist. Holding you close to his chest.

If you passed out from the shock, he could hold you and you wouldn't fall.

"Good morning..." the younger muttered, looking at you with a slight nervousness visible on his face.

"You're..." you muttered as you sat at the dining room table.

The dinner that was supposed to be prepared just for the two of you will be divided between three people. You've been waiting for your food to bake in the oven.

"I'm really from the past...I think." The boy said, keeping his hands on his lap under the table.

"I remember when I was your age I took a gold watch. Did you do that?" the 28-year-old asked, eyeing the 17-year-old with a slight smile.

"Yeah..." replied.

"Do you see, honey? He's definitely from the past! I did something like that too! In this world, there are an infinite number of same timelines! We are the same person!" He said enthusiastically.

"Satoru, stop talking about infinite dimensions... Just because you can understand it and master it with your techniques doesn't mean I can."

"Aww, come on. I'm just telling you how it is. Even I don't understand how this timepiece can transport someone into the future timeline!" he muttered, laying his head on your shoulder.

As the younger Gojo sat in front of you and stared at the scene, he thought that he wouldn't act like that.

A boy must be manly for a girl! You should be putting your head on his shoulder, not him on yours!

Or is it better and nicer? He's never hugged you or anything. Maybe he'll think it's better this way... Maybe laying down and cuddling up to you is even better if it's the other way around?

Besides, you don't seem to mind.

It really can be fun.

Just the thought of him giving you a hug brought a small blush to his face.

And this, of course, was noticed by the adult Gojo.

He kept smiling.

He had two and a half hours left.

So you two will eat dinner and talk some more.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't blush every time he saw his older self touch you somehow.

Even a little kiss on the cheek is the reason his face turns pink.

Especially when he went to the bathroom for a while to calm his thoughts and wash his face with cold water.

When he comes back, the first thing he sees is that you're standing at the kitchen counter, and behind you is your husband, who tilts your face back and tilts his head down, kissing you like this.

When you saw that the teenager was looking at you, you started to panic. You scolded your husband for making your boyfriend see this.

Even if they were the same people. It must have been a shock to him.

When you were finally able to look at him without shame, you saw him staring at you with sparkles in his eyes.

"Something wrong?" you asked.

"N-No... It's just... You're beautiful... Just like you are when you go to school with me..." He said blushing as he scratched his head.

"... Thank you..."

It was right after dinner.

He will soon be gone and will be in those times.

Well, you will have your husband and his younger form will come home. There was nothing sad about it.

"Remember kid, don't worry about her running away when you tell her you love her." Elder Gojo told him.

"I'm not a kid." He growled. And then he thought about the other one. "She's going to run away?"

"Yes. Because it was too much information all at once. Later she will come to you, and your dreams will come true. Think how you want. There was a lot going on on our birthday in that year...." He laughed strangely, signaling that there was A LOT going on there.

"You two will end up like us. And I think you're glad that you turned out to be her future husband."

He looked at your fingers as you looked at him. With a gold ring. Then he looked at his hand. Where the ring will appear in the future.

He suddenly walked over to you, hugging you tightly.

Even if he won't remember it, it was worth it.

#gojou satoru x you #gojo fanfic #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n

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tillthelandslide · 8 months

Text

Insufferable Arsehole Part 12 : (When In Rome) : I'm Just Fine 'Cause I Know That You Are Mine Insta AU (pt.1)

a/n: hiiiiii everyone, this is a little sneak peak into the next chapter of IA I guess (i'll probably post it tonight <3) hope you enjoy.

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊)

Series Masterlist

Previous Part

thisislou:

thisislou alexa play 'oh daddy' by fleetwood mac

Liked by charli_xcx, mynameismia, rass1975, trumanblack and 439,102 others

trumanblack you're insatiable

↳ thisislou you love me

↳ trumanblack i do

mynameismia ew gross...

↳ thisislou just block me at this point

charli_xcx i swear to god, this rat better count himself lucky

↳ trumanblack i do, trust me

trumanblack:

trumanblack Amore mio @thisislou

Liked by thisislou, jamieoborne, rass1975 and 672,198 others

Comments on this post have been restricted

thislou I love you so much Mr Healy

jamieoborne poor bloke had to silence his comments

↳ trumanblack too many comments saying she's too good for me... as if I dont already know

↳ thisislou ignore them my love, you're perfect for me

rass1975 come back, starting to miss you both over here

bedforddanes only one worthy of her is you mate

1975adam <3

healytymd you think you're cool for writing the caption in Italian... have to agree with the haters that say she's too good for you bro :P

↳ trumanblack 🖕🏼

thisislou:

thisislou the only one worthy of my love is you, you have redefined love itself and exceeded every fantasy i ever had of true love. You are my person, always. They don't know the Matty I know, the Matty the boys know. The Matty that loves his friends so deeply, the Matty that worries about his fans and whether they got home safely after a gig, the Matty that wishes he could call his mum more or visit her and hug her more. The Matty that hugs his brother too tight every time he sees him so he doesn't forget how it feels. The Matty that loves me, so fiercely every. dam. day. That's my Matty, the one who deserves my love @trumanblack

Liked by trumanblack, rass1975, bedforddanes and 891,284 others

Comments on this post have been limited

rass1975 our matty

bedforddanes we love you mate

healytymd love you bro

densie_welch thats my boy

1975adam couldn't have said it better

trumanblack you're the best of me, my love

trumanblack:

trumanblack my beautiful girl

Liked by thisislou, 1975adam, charli_xcx and 568,129 others

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thisislou missed opportunity for the caption: you share my shirt, looks so good

↳ trumanblack not using my own lyrics as a caption love

↳ thisislou booooo bad boyfriend

↳ trumanblack you're annoying but I love you

the1975updates GUYS SHES WEARING A RING ON HER RING FINGER OF HER LEFT HAND. THIS IS NOT A DREAL

↳ trumanblack it's flipped, I promise you we didn't get engaged or married (much to my disappointment trust me)

charli_xcx you lucky lucky man

thisislou via her stories:

caption: my love @trumanblack

thisislou:

thisislou Italy has been one of the best experiences of my life. This moment right here was a beautiful one, Matty and I saw an old couple on the beach with this really old camera (he went on about how cool it was and how it was rare... I didn't care but he rambled and it was cute). The couple came over to us and (despite the language barrier) explained how they took some photos of us and how they wanted to gift them to us... We gave the address of the place we were staying at and two days later the photos arrived. This is our favourite. I'll never be able to truly thank the couple for this moment, it was beautiful. They said our love is L'amor che move il sol e l'altre stelle: The love that moves the sun and the other stars. I loved that. To my Matty, I love you more than words can ever describe, thank you for the best holiday ❤️

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trumanblack I love this so much

trumanblack I love you

mynameismia the best couple

bedforddanes this is cute... cant wait to see you both

#the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x oc #matty healy fan fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy instagram au #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #insufferable arsehole matty healy series

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iloveboysinred · 19 days

Note

HIIIIII it's me againe 🏃‍♀️, how are you?? I hope you are doing well and that you are having a good day !!!

I was wondering would it be possible to write a very very very very very sad angst voltron x fem reader (would it be possible to make it a keith x reader, I'm so sorry very time it's him, you can make it for a different character I'd you like 💓💓).

Thank you everytime for making such amazing stories, I literally LOVE READING THEM ALL

MWAH MWAH MWA 💋💋💋

Hiiii always good to receive an ask from you! and thank you for requesting. I love writing these for you and anybody that reads them! MWAAAAAH <33333

Remember me like this [ Keith Kogane]

Keith Kogane x fem reader

synopsis; You had always been there for Keith, as a friend and a shoulder to cry on. What Keith didn't know, was that you had always wanted to be more. When Keith disappears, you're forced to move on. Only for your heart to break all over again when he returns, a war hero and seemingly forgetting all about you.

cw; angst, one sided love, pining, heartbreak ;( Keith being a dick for forgetting about you (so ooc Keith cause we all know he would never) character death!! Lots of curse words, no happy ending, no comfort

For @iamasimpfor2dcharachers 💗

masterlist

When you had heard about the 3 garrison cadets who had broken in to rescue Shiro, a senior pilot who had been sent on the Kerberos mission, you'd immediately guessed Keith was involved. Having been the closest thing to a friend when he had still been enrolled in the Galaxy garrison, you knew the nature of his relationship with Shiro.

He'd confided in you many times about his home life. He's told you about how he's never known his mother, about the death of his father, and how Shiro had taken him in when he was just a pre-teen, guiding him and raising him as his own. You and Keith had slowly grown close, you understood his frustrations, and his seemingly endless anger at the world. You had gotten to know him better, you'd seen the real fragile, broken boy underneath his hot-head "loner" facade. Many times you were by his side, comforting him through the night, holding him close as he wept. Naturally, you had began to develop feelings for the boy, working hard to attempt at healing his bleeding heart. You'd never utter a word of your feelings to him though, knowing that he didn't feel the same way. "He has so much going on already... he shouldn't have to worry about my feelings too", you'd tell yourself, trying to sooth the aching in your heart every time you find yourself leaning towards him, your lips craving the feel of his own.

Keith was a complex person, it was hard to read how he was feeling if he didn't want to let you in. You'd learned that early enough when you met him on the first day of piloting school. "Hey, my name's y/n. I see you're training to be a fighter pilot, me too! I've heard about how great you are from Griffin" you chirped, reaching a hand out to shake his, "I wouldn't take him seriously, he complains so much about you it sounds like he's jealous. I would take that as a compliment. What's your name?" Keith eyed your outstretched hand skeptically, turning his gaze away from you with a scoff. "Keith." he muttered nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. You smiled, grabbing his gloved hand out of his intertwined arms, shaking it fervently. "Nice to meet you, Keith. I hope we'll become friends. Welcome to the team!" Keith stared at you with slightly widened eyes before snatching his hand back and walking away without another word. "Tough cookie to crack.." you thought to yourself amusedly.

From that day on you'd made a point to talk to Keith every day. You complimented his piloting, asked about his day, his favorite things to do in his free time. He never spoke much in the first few weeks of you knowing him, giving you one word answers or grunts in response to your pestering attempt to gain his friendship. "What do you want now, y/n" Keith grumbled as you sat next to him at lunch. He had just come back from suspension after getting in a fist fight with your classmate, James Griffin. It was obvious he wasn't in the best of moods. But he never really was, so it didn't phase you. "I just wanted to tell you that James totally deserved that punch." Keith shot you a surprised look, watching as you nonchalantly unpacked your lunchbox. "He's such a douche. I'm surprised nobody's rocked his shit earlier. I'm sorry for what he said about you." you mumbled over a bite of your sandwich, offering him the other half, seeing as he lacked a lunch box of his own. He shyly took it, taking a small bite out of the corner. You smiled to yourself, eating in silence beside each other.

From that day forward, you got more than a few words out of Keith. You began to visit him at home, bringing with you homemade lunches and board games. You'd truly began to blossom a friendship, telling each other everything, sharing lunches, always in each other's company. It was rare to see Keith without you by his side. He had brought you over to meet Shiro, explaining that he was his only parent figure in his life after his father's passing and his mother's early disappearance in his life. You'd began to bond over your trauma, confiding in him about your strict, loveless household, and him to you about his loneliness and his subconscious need for a family he could belong to.

You still remember your shock when he had dropped out of the Garrison, not too long after Shiro's disappearance. You spent months defending his name, ripping a new one to whoever spoke ill of your best friend. You still visited him often, now his home being the only place you really saw him. You'd bring him food and other necessities, knowing he wasn't taking care of himself besides taking showers and sleeping.

Everyday since the break in, you'd come looking for him at his desert home, and everyday you'd find it empty. Nobody knew where the cadets had gone, searching the premises and the miles surrounding in an attempt to find the fugitives. Eventually, the searching stopped and with it, your daily visits to his abandoned home. You've accepted that Keith was lost, but your aching heart never truly stopped longing for his return. You knew he was out there, somewhere you couldn't see.

After a year, you'd graduated from piloting school, now an official fighter pilot for the galaxy garrison. You'd stood rigid as they handed you your uniform after the ceremony. It felt like something was missing, and you knew that something was Keith. Your accomplishment felt bittersweet. Sure, you had graduated at the top of your class, but that was surely only because Keith had dropped out. Everyone knew Keith was the best pilot on your team, and it didn't sit well with you how you had filled in his place. You brushed the thoughts off, you needed to move on. Keith was gone and you needed to resume your life, just as you had before you met him.

So, you'd continued your life as a garrison pilot. Training new cadets, and doing daily drills in garrison space vessels. Your life was fulfilling you suppose, but you never felt more alone. You'd skipped lunches with the other pilots, opting to eat by yourself in your room, you barley even spoke to anybody, only responding when spoken to or when given an order. As hard as you tried to enjoy life, nothing was the same anymore.

Obviously, the universe had a weird way of working things. When the Galra attacked earth, defeated by the infamous paladins of Voltron, your heart skipped a beat when you'd seen him in the cafeteria. His hair had gotten longer, he looked older, which didn't surprise you, it had been years since you'd last seen him. He had a jarring scar going from his cheek and coming to a sharp point right by his eye, and you wondered briefly what trouble he had gotten in.

You felt all the old emotions rushing back to you, but you also felt angry at him. He had left without so much as a goodbye, and here he was, being praised and awarded without sparing you so much as a single glance. He didn't know the pain he had caused you, and he certainly didn't seem to care. You marched right up to him, eyes glistening with tears you refused to let fall. "So that's what you've been doing these last few years, you ASSHOLE!" you hissed, showing your face up to his, standing nose to nose with the taller man. Keith looked at you, bewildered and seemingly not knowing who the fuck you were. You stared into his eyes, confusion clouding his, anger pain and..love swimming in yours. "What are you talking about...do I even know you!?" he snapped back, getting over his initial shock and shoving you backwards. Keith didn’t recognize the grown ass woman yelling at him, but something felt familiar about you, the way you cussed him out, the furious glint in your eye. He knew he had seen you before, but where? He stared at you hard, trying to get his brain to connect the dots. "Oh so you don't remember me now? it's been fucking years since you left and now you don't know who I am? you're a real class act, Keith. I can't fucking believe you right now..." your words had begun to get shaky, the tears becoming almost too much to hold back. "I guess you were too busy parading around space in a fucking robot lion to even have a second thought about me!" by now a crowd was forming, but you didn't care. You were gonna get this off your chest, no matter how people looked at you afterwards.

"What, you got amnesia now? you left me here, you dick! you didn't even say goodbye, did our friendship mean nothing to you-" "What the fuck are you even talking about right now?!" you can tell he was agitated both from your confrontation and the unwanted attention from bystanders. "What am I talking about? I'm talking about how I used to be the only one there for you! you were my only friend and you left Keith. You left without a care and now you don't even know who I am." you let your tears free fall, your pain deepening at the utter look of cluelessness on his face. "y/n, that's enough. back off." you whipped around to see Iverson, who had broken up the crowd and now fixed you with a stern look. You sniffled and shot Keith one last furious look. Brushing past Iverson when you whipped around and stormed off.

“Y/n…?” Keith whispered, his eyes wide in disbelief. How could he be so stupid? Of course it was you! He felt his breath leave his lungs as he watched your retreating form. He flinched when Lance slapped his hand over his shoulder, pulling him into his side and grinning ear to ear. “Wow Keith, i didnt know you had the ladies down for you like that! I must’ve really rubbed off on you, huh? “ “Oh fuck off, Lance!” Keith snapped, shoving him off, speed walking in direction you had gone. But you were nowhere to be found, and Keith felt guilt settle in his stomach.

From that day Keith only saw you in passing. It was like you never even knew he was there. Every time you scoffed at him when he tried to talk to you he felt his chest tighten. He tried every way he knew how to try and get you to talk to him again, expressing his remorse by leaving you homemade lunches at your door in the mornings, to trying to pair up with you during flight drills. But you ignored him every time. It was messing with him, but he knew he deserved it. He deserved every cold glance, every shoulder bump you'd purposely given him when you walked past. But that fact hurt him even more.

But then, he found you in the cafeteria, sitting by yourself and picking at your lunch. He let out a breath to ready himself, walking over to you. You gave him a quick glance before looking back down at your lunch box, debating if you should leave. “Y/n I-“ “what do you want Keith? Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” You snapped, slamming your fork down on the metal table. Keith’s lips pursed in a line, feeling his frustration, hot and bubbling over. “I wanted to say i’m sorry, I-I didn’t recognize you… you looked different!” He tried to explain, but you didn’t care. It sounded like a whole bunch of excuses to you. “Okay, you didn’t recognize me.” You gritted out, refusing to look at him, staring down at your clenched fists on the table. “You didnt recognize me, because you left, Keith! You left and didnt even think to say goodbye. I had to finish flight school without you. I had to deal with all the bullshit you left behind, without YOU. Now you show up after disappearing and everyone throws you a fucking parade. What about me, huh? You were so caught up in your own shit you forgot all about me. I was there for you, I LOVED YOU!” You yelled, whipping around to face him. “I loved you ever since we were 16.. and you didn’t have a clue cause all you cared about was your problems and yourself! So yeah, i dont want to hear apologies, i actually never want to see your stupid fucking face, ever. again.” You seethed, grabbing your lunch and storming off, leaving Keith broken and speechless.

Then, it happened. During a flight drill your space vessel had malfunctioned, crashing into the ground from your high position in the sky. Alarms bleared throughout the base, officers and pilots rushing out to see the catastrophe. Keith shoved people aside, barging to the front of the crowd. He had rushed to the scene after conversing with Admiral Sanda, when a trainee had come in to relay the news. He fell to his knees when his eyes fell on your broken body, being hauled out of the space vessel, now destroyed and smoking behind you. Keith's body felt frozen to the ground as the medics hauled you through the crowd. Everything was moving in slow motion, the crowd dispersing and conversing amongst themselves in shock. His heart felt like it was beating once per minute. He looked around but he couldn’t see, the smoke causing his vision to blur and his lungs to burn. He had to get up, he had to look for you.

Tears welled in his eyes when he had found you in the med bay, your breaths faint and getting weaker by second. If he couldn’t recognize you then, he definitely couldn’t now. There you lay, in a hospital gown with bandages covering the entirety of your body. Your face bruised and bloody. He sat down beside you, holding your stiff hand in his. Your skin felt cold, the life inside you rapidly fading. He had known your condition before he came, the nurses telling him that you were a lost cause, that they did everything they could to help you pass comfortably. But grief still brewed in his heart, it's iron grip making it hard to breathe as he stared at your closed eyelids. "I'm so sorry, y/n" he whispered, bringing your cold hand to his lips. "I should've brought you with me, I never forgot you, i never stopped loving you. Don’t go, please, Not like this." his whimpers escalated, sobs racking his body as leaned over to hug you, at least remaining careful enough to not move you too much. "You're my best friend... I never even got the chance to tell you..I-i love you. Forgive me. Please." but his pleading fell on deaf ears. The only sound in the room being the continuous beep of a flatlined heart monitor, and his sobs. A part of him died with you that night, and he knew that he would never forgive himself.

hope you enjoyed, this made me a little sad ;( sorry if it was mid, I'm not used to writing angst. notes and reblogs are appreciated, comments, asks, submissions are welcomed!

#{anonask ੈ✩‧₊˚ ฅ^. .^ฅ}#vld keith #❥iloveboysinred #keith kogane #angst #vld keith x reader #voltron x reader #vld x reader #voltron angst #voltron legendary defender

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forlorn-crows · 9 months

Note

Waddles in late as hell

Hiiiiii

Might I ask for something cute with Mounty and Zephyr....Talking about puppy mount the other day drove me insane about them, and I'm hgngnfnfnn, it's your fault (/lh).

Messy excited puppy excited to show Zephyr his first kill by himself maybe?

I just love them....

Thank you 🥺🥺🥺🥺

-Void

happy birthday @divine-misfortune! i am very happy to present (ha, present) . . . THEM. i will not be apologizing for give you the brainrot

mountain's first hunt w/zeph. you know they gettin' cute and frisky with it

!!TW!! MURDER GHOUL CONTENT AHEAD. YE HAVE BEEN WARNED mentions of blood, guts, gore, etc.

Zephyr wouldn't have guessed Mountain would find hunting so natural. As gangly, long-limbed, and quiet as he is, his demeanor changes wholly and completely at the promise of sport. It was alluring to Zephyr, to see him change before their eyes in the dim of the forest, shirking his glamour to become something magnificent and eldritch. They had changed beside him, ruffling bright white feathers and stretching their talons. They breathed in tandem, reaching their senses into the forest to find their prey as they stumbled over roots to get away.

It was no use, of course. Zephyr watched as Mountain took off, weaving through trees like second nature. Luring and teasing so the air ghoul could swoop in for the kill.

They sit together now, propped up against one of the eldest trees in the forest, its trunk wide enough for them both to recline on. Enjoying the bloody fruits of their hellish labor. They both carry remnants of their true form still—feathers sticking out behind Zephyr’s ears, dense bark and moss clinging to Mountain’s elbows. Not quite glamoured, not quite unglamoured.

The earth ghoul hasn’t said a word since the release of their captive. But he’s certainly been making plenty of noise: growling and snarling as the blood sprung from the mortal’s artery, huffing hot breath through his nose as he carried it to their dining spot, sighing and groaning contentedly as he sucks the flesh off the bones.

It’s interesting, Zephyr thinks. But they don’t mind, and they don’t question. Lucifer knows how frenzied they had been their first time. It’s nice to enjoy company that’s rather docile.

Mountain turns to them, eyeing the wet organ in their hands. His eyes dart from their face down to their lap and back again, wide and expectant.

Zephyr smiles. “Is there something you want?”

Mountain doesn’t answer. Instead, he shuffles closer to them, draping himself against their side and leaning his head onto their shoulder. Still pointedly staring at the meat in their hands.

The air ghoul shakes their head, amused. “Here. Let me feed you some.” Mountain perks up at that, nearly drooling as he watches Zephyr tear a piece off and hold it up. He darts out to capture it between his teeth, but they’re faster, pulling it just out of his reach. “Ah-ah,” they scold playfully. Mountain whines, ears pinning back. “Don’t give me that face, love, there’s no need to be greedy.” They reach out and lift Mountain’s chin with their free hand, cupping it gently, stroking his jaw with their thumb.

His eyes flutter a bit. Zephyr smiles and presses the flesh to his lips. He licks it up eagerly, rumbling happily as the tang of it bursts on his tongue.

The air ghoul presses their lips his before he can lick them clean, pressing into his mouth to taste. Mountain trills in surprise, but opens up easily. Groaning as they swipe against his teeth.

Zephyr sighs into his mouth. They lick some of the still-warm blood into their own and hum appreciatively, catching a drop of it off of Mountain’s lips and bringing it to theirs.

"Tastes so sweet, pet. You did a splendid job, you know," they compliment. Mountain chuffs and gives an affectionate nuzzle to the side of their face.

"Who knew you'd be so . . ." they search for the right word, scratching at Mountain's scalp. His tail beats against the chilled ground. Zephyr chuckles. " . . . cute after a hunt. Big ol' beastie, aren't you?"

Mountain sighs and melts against him, indulging in the feeling of Zephyr’s claws in his hair. It’s unfamiliar, this sated, almost simple feeling throughout his brain. But he finds he doesn’t mind it—it’s easier to lean into his more animalistic side, to forgo the complicated nature of a sentient, overly-cognizant mind as he goes back to stuffing his supernatural being into a mortal vessel.

So he nods in agreement. “You really did a very good job, Mountain,” Zephyr praises. “Such a clever ghoul. Exciting to watch, too.”

Mountain whines at the compliments. “You like that I praise you, hm? Well, you certainly deserve it,” Zephyr continues. “And a brilliant pick of the litter. That sibling certainly had no place in our congregation. Could smell it a mile away, couldn’t you?” The earth ghoul’s tail thumps harder against the ground, too much like a puppy for his own liking. But Zephyr scratches his head and places a kiss between his horns, and suddenly whatever his tail is doing is none of his business.

“Clever, clever thing you are. And to think I was granted the honor of sharing the first with you.” The air ghoul cradles Mountain’s face in their hands, admiring the blush spread across his freckled and blood-stained cheeks. He gazes back adoringly. Pleading for something, perhaps, a little more.

“Would you indulge me, a little, in my desire to give you a reward?” They press close once more, kissing over Mountain’s eyelids once they fall shut. He gasps, mouth falling open as they continue to place kisses over his face, trailing down, down, down. The whimper Mountain lets out is needy, immediately desperate.

Zephyr gives him a quick kiss, dragging their fangs over his bottom lip as they pull back. “Satanas, the taste of a kill on your mouth makes me want to ravish you,” they rasp. Mountain moans unbidden, grasping at their thick linen shirt as desire blooms in his belly. “Yes, I bet you’d like that,” Zephyr says, smoothing a hand down his chest. It earns them another moan and a huff of hot air across their face. “So responsive like this, pet.”

As if to punctuate their statement, Mountain grabs their wrist and guides their hand down to his crotch, pressing it against his chubbing cock. Now it’s Zephyr’s turn to groan. “Naughty thing,” they mutter. “Sit on my lap. Let me show you how much I enjoyed our night together.”

Well, Mountain doesn’t need to be told twice.

#happy birthday void!!#ask #void #ficlet #fanfic #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfic #zephyr ghoul #mountain ghoul #puppy mountain #mountain/zephyr #zephyr/mountain #murder ghouls #tw gore #idfk what to tag murder ghouls w/ as far as tw ljdsk

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azures-bazar · 1 year

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Hiiiiii ! ❤️ I love your soft!Arthur one shots and was wondering if you could eventually write about female!reader comforting Arthur after a meltdown or something ! Like he had a very bad day or he just feels bad and cries and all but is too ashamed to show he's sad ! thx !!

Angel’s Tears

Hey there anon, thank you for your request ! It means a lot <3 I love writing sad stuff (don't ask why, it's my cup of tea), and soft/sad Arthur is a part of my fav subjects lol

I'm sorry if it took me so long, I got really busy with my job and my free time is mostly consisting in me resting while playing Cyberpunk 2077 lol. Having a new graphic card helps a lot.

I hope you'll like it despite these awful mistakes I've made !

Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader

Word count : 2.6k

Short summary : Arthur has been gone for three days and just came back after a dramatic set of events. You don’t want to leave him alone, so you’re taking him out for more privacy.

Warnings : mentions of torture and death

Tags : Chapter 3, Arthur is broken, angel tears, mentions of Isaac Morgan, you are Arthur’s treasure, soft boah, tears and kisses, some fluff, cute

It had been three days. Arthur had been gone for three days. This felt common for almost everyone around camp, but you genuinely thought he had been gone for weeks. You were used to have him wait for you by your tent every morning, sometimes passing his head between its flaps with a large smile. You loved being close to him when he was around camp, or when he was taking you to town. It was no secret for anyone that you had a little something for him, especially not to Mary-Beth. She had been quick to talk about this to Tilly, who told Karen, who then told Sean… who shouted about it all day long. That day, you wanted to dig a hole in the ground and never come out of it.

As far as you could recall, Arthur had spent his entire day blushing anytime your eyes would meet his. What a sweet thing you were, right here, probably loving him as much as he loved you ! Arthur was not good as talking about what he felt, but something you were sure about was the reciprocity of your feelings. You could easily tell he was sweet on you by the very beautiful look he was giving you, by his bright smile whenever he was seeing you after being gone for some time, by his overall attitude. What made him fall for you was the night you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder while listening to Javier’s ballads. He had carried you to your tent and did not let go all night long, appreciating the way you clung onto him, still leaving by the morning before anyone would spot him.

His absence was noticeable, days felt rather dull whenever he was not waiting by your tent in the morning like he usually did. While you were on guard duty, you did your best to focus on the surroundings rather than think about him and feel this void surrounding you. You missed his embrace, his overall presence around camp. Even if Sean wanted to fill this emptiness by… forcing you into hugs you did not like, you counted each hour separating you from Arthur’s return, notting them on a paper in order to be more prepared for the next time. You knew he would most likely bring you something from his travels, or maybe not. You did not care, you just wanted him back at this point.

"Guess who’s back !" Karen shouted from the camp’s entrance

You were cleaning your riffle with Charles as you spotted Arthur coming back to camp. You calmly placed your riffle aside and approached him, noticing how pale Arthur was, how shocked he seemed to be, how much blood covered his shirt. He barely smiled at you, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead before taking a wad of cash from his satchel and moving straight to Dutch’s tent to give it to him before quickly heading to the water to wash himself before Ms. Grimshaw would force him to do so. As you watched him pass by Javier without saying a word, you understood he did not want to be bothered, leading you to swallow your desire for an embrace and head back to your riffle-cleaning. You knew Arthur did not like being bothered and wanted to give some space.

"Looks like he's not alright." Charles noted, glancing at Arthur who was cleaning his shirt

"I’ll let him cool down a bit." you answered, nervously rubbing your riffle’s trigger. "You know how he is when he’s not in the mood."

"Yes, but I guess you should do something anyway. Leaving Arthur like this ain’t a good idea, that’s for sure."

You nodded at Charles' advice, taking a few more minutes to finish your chore before carefully walking to Arthur who was now sitting on his cot in a brand new shirt and a pair of clean trousers, staring into space without noticing you were actually standing right before him. You cleared your throat a little, not daring to touch him just yet. You knew how unpredictable Arthur’s reactions could be whenever he was lost in his thoughts and dragged back to reality, you had seen him slap Bill one day as he was just trying to catch his attention.

"Excuse me, Arthur." you said

Morgan gently turned his head to you, a sweet smile bloomed on his pale and haggard face. You felt something was wrong with him by the way his eyes spoke to you, filled with emptiness and melancholy. You had no idea about what Arthur had been up to, but the blood that was covering his him when he came back to camp made you supposed he got into a brawl, or maybe worse. Much worse. Arthur was a tough man, believing brawls were actually quite enjoyable when you had the advantage over the situation. You strongly believed something bad had happened.

"I’m heading to town." you restarted, crossing your hands behind your back. "Would you like to join me ?"

"I just came back to camp, Y/N." Arthur smirked. "I don’t think Dutch would allow that."

"Don’t worry, he will allow you to spend some time with me at the saloon. C’mon, let’s go !"

"Errr… Fine."

Arthur rolled eyes and grumbled as he stood up. Since the day you got inducted into the gang, anyone could notice he could hardly say no to you. Your mesmerising eyes and adorable face never helped him. He would have brought you the moon on a silver plate if he could. He always found himself scrambling to make you happy, and could obviously not refuse leaving camp with you. Even if he had just come back from a three days long journey, he genuinely believed a moment with you could make him feel better instead of hiding his frustration, sadness and overall exhaustion behind his tent flaps.

You quickly headed to Dutch to tell him you were taking his boy out to town. Surprisingly enough, Van der Linde agreed and even gave you enough money to spend on a room and a bath at the saloon. Dutch had seen Arthur’s overall mood when he gave him the money he had collected and had felt quite worried about him. Arthur’s empty eyes and tense expression had reminded him of the one he had years ago, following his return from Eliza’s house after finding out that she and his son Isaac were dead. He knew his boy would probably feel better with you as he was aware of your natural ease to work him. Dutch gave you some food as well, believing Arthur should be hungry after his travels.

"Sure, sweet girl." Dutch told you. "Make sure not to get into trouble."

Unexpectedly, Arthur insisted on riding your horse, believing his one needed some rest as much as he himself did. He left them to Kieran’s care as he climbed on your silver Turkoman, helping you up and placing you before him. One of his hands rested on your waist as the other one carefully held onto the bridle, he led you out of the hideout.

"Let's go, m'lady." he told you

Your short journey to Rhodes was rather quiet as Arthur did not speak at all, making you feel awkward, if not even uncomfortable. At the saloon, you quickly ordered some food at the counter while renting a room and a bath before heading straight to the bedroom, locking the door behind you.

"What happened, Arthur ?" you asked

"Some shit." Morgan responded without meeting your eyes, taking his boots off. "Nothing to worry ‘bout."

"You were covered in blood, Arthur. I know you’re tough, but that look on your face… what happened ?"

Arthur looked up and bit his lower lip, calmly breathing before sitting down. You approached him and sat beside him, placing your hand on his back. It made him shiver, any time you touched him felt like a treasure for Arthur. He sighed, understanding he could not get away with it, believing talking to you would make things better.

"While I was ridin’ in Roanoke, spotted some Murfrees torturing a couple of hostages." he whispered. "Poor feller had his four limbs broken, I guess. His wife died before me. I tried stopping them, and then I spotted a lil’ boy nearby… heard his pa’ saying « Alexander », I guess that was his name."

Tears started streaming down his cheeks as soon as he mentioned the presence of the child. You kept listening to him, being somewhat aware that the worst had happened to this poor family. Judging by Arthur’s attitude and sudden sadness, you could easily guess about their demise. You had known about Arthur’s son during a random talk you had with him, you could only imagine how terrible it must have been for him to witness the Murfree’s torture on a family.

"As I tried killin’ these damn Murfrees, one of them got out and took the child as the feller died beggin' me to find his son." Arthur hiccuped. "I tried runnin’ after them… looked for the kid for hours. Found his body at the bottom of a hill."

Arthur quickly rubbed his eyes while bitting his lower lip. His hands clung onto his legs as you ran your fingers across his back. Witnessing the body of a child deeply broke him as he transposed the image of Isaac on him. On a boy who would have been about his son’s age by his death.

"I could have done somethin’, Y/N…" he grumbled, turning his head to you. "I could've done somethin’… if only I had been here earlier… m-maybe…"

"You couldn’t have done anything."

"I… I could have…"

"It’s alright, Arthur. It’s alright."

You were heartbroken after hearing his distraught, his pain. There were no words to describe how bad you felt when you met his devastated gaze, tears streaming on his reddish cheeks, his wobbling lower lip. Your hand made its way through his hair, you played with it as Arthur buried his head against your shoulder. You passed your hand on his cheek, causing him to catch it while crying. It made you shiver a little, but you did not mind. In fact, you appreciated his complete trust, knowing he would have never spoken this way to anyone else but you.

"I'm sorry, darlin'." Arthur sobbed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

He wanted to feel your touch, he needed it. He needed you more than anything at this moment, and no words came out of his mouth to express his pain. He firmly held your hand on his cheek, letting out a few sobs as you carefully kissed the top of his head. Your other hand made its way to his shoulder, you left your thumbs rub it without bothering about what was surrounding you. Nothing else mattered but Arthur, nothing else.

Poor man sobbed for long minutes while you kissed his temple at times, watching the sun go down through your window. You did not dare saying a word, believing it would break Arthur into pieces. Just a word and your favourite cowboy would probably collapse into your embrace, so you remained silent and allowed him to cry on your shoulder, rocking him back and forth at some point before he slowly moved away from, looking into your eyes with a soft smile.

"Thank you, sweetheart." he whispered

"Don’t thank me." you smiled. "I couldn’t leave you like that."

"You’re a real treasure, you know that ?"

You shrugged a little, your smile got wider. Arthur had told you a few times that your sole existence was one of his biggest treasures. He could not describe how safe he felt with you, how much your smile could make all the troubles go away in a mere second. You were one of the last pillars of his life, and he was quick to show it whenever you were with him. From embraces to two or three quick kisses on your lips, Arthur knew how to make you feel special.

As you were about to kiss his forehead one more time, Arthur quickly rose to change your target. Your lips landed on his instead, causing you to blush as he gently opened his mouth to make it last longer. You calmly took his face between your hands, keeping his head close to yours for a short while until moving back a little. Your bright smile made him blush, despite his darker shade was hard to notice due to the overall lightning in the room.

"Yeah, you’re a treasure." Arthur said. "My beautiful treasure."

"You’re going to make me blush." you chuckled

"I’d love to, girl. I’d love to."

The two of you talked for a long while up until a prostitute brought you some food on a plate, carefully placing it on your bedside table. Instead of allowing Arthur to take care of you as he usually did, you believed Morgan needed some rest and that you had to pay him back. You ate with him, listened to him talk about his discoveries, about these wild animals he had the opportunity to draw, about the overall strange ambiance he felt while travelling around Roanoke Ridge, being thankful the gang didn't settle there. He had brought you a beautiful emerald he had found somewhere near an old house, hidden in a crate.

"It ain’t much, but I really thought you’d like it." he smiled. "I wanted to go to a jeweller and make a ring out of it, but ain’t got no time."

"It’s amazing, Arthur !" you praised him. "It’s a god damn emerald ! Of course I love it !"

"Just… don’t tell Dutch I gave you an emerald, right ? He'll get mad."

"I won’t tell anyone."

You watched Arthur eat his whole plate of fried fish so fast that you barely had time to start eating yours. You felt lucky Dutch had given you some more food, Arthur was hungry. He ate some bread, some of your vegetables and the two apples you had brought with you. Then, you dragged him to the bathroom, carefully undressing him as he looked at you with wide opened eyes. You had never seen him naked before, but did not care at all. In fact, it was even pleasant to see !

"Get in there so I can wash you." you said, placing your hands on your hips

"I ain’t a child, Y/N." Arthur said as he sat down in the bathtub

"You sure ain’t. Just relax and lemme help you."

Arthur shrugged as you started massaging his broad shoulders. He loudly moaned as you reached his neck, he absolutely adored having you press your hands on it. As far as he could remember, Arthur had always loved taking care of you. He loved staying by your bed when something was wrong or when you felt bad, he had helped you bathe following Blackwater’s botched heist to which you had participated and were traumatised for days. Arthur loved having you under his watch, having you doing the same for him was unusual, but worth it. He could breathe, he could forget.

It took him a few minutes to doze off. His soft snore made you smile as you dried your hands, sitting by the bathtub to look at him. What a handsome feller you had here ! His long eyelashes were quick to make many women jealous of him, it gave him a rather angelic look. Who would have thought that this tall and brawny man, his face wet with all these angel’s tears which had streamed on his cheeks, was an outlaw ? A man who had killed people, who had beaten some of them up ? Who would have thought that a man with such puppy eyes had blood on his hands ?

"Ain’t you a handsome man…" you smiled

The lack of response from Arthur’s part was no surprise. You watched him sleep, surrounded with this faint steam and soap bubbles, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids. You could not help but smile at this beautiful sight, you adored it. It was worth it, having Arthur rest like this was worth it. You knew he deserved it, you genuinely wanted him to be alright. And, that night, your presence healed his poor soul. You were everything for him, a reason to keep going.

You were his treasure.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #fluff #cute #arthur morgan cries #soft arthur is the best #my giffs

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