#one last shitpost before bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-daydreams · 5 months

Text

Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys (Sumeru + Fontaine Edition).

Characters: Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, and Wriothesley.

Word Count: 2.7k.

TW: Borderline Shitposting, Prolonged Imprisonment, Varying Levels of Emotional and Physical Abuse, Codependency, Mentions of Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.

Alhaitham

It took Alhaitham about ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, his staggered footsteps audible through the thin walls of his apartment.

It took twenty for him to haul himself through his morning routine – water running somewhere in the distance and porcelain clattering against marble countertops as he washed his face and tried to work some life into himself. Alhaitham usually wasn’t so lethargic, but he’d had a rough week. There’d been a sudden influx of paperwork for the Akademiya’s sole scribe, and every second he didn’t spend buried under new legislation and requests for increased budging was, instead, dedicated to one of his many personal research projects. By the time he’d gotten home last night, it’d been all he could do to make sure you hadn’t starved to death and drag himself to bed.

He usually would’ve kept you waiting for a few more minutes, but an agitated grunt marked an end to his normal patterns. In a moment, he was braced against the doorway to his own study, his eyes narrowed half-hearted towards where you sat in his leather-padded chair, your feet propped on his desk. There was an book open in your lap – one of his, something about metaphysics and ley line abnormalities and how both tied into the Inazuman politics. He eyed it wearily before speaking, his voice still deep with exhaustion. “Where did you put my hearing aids?”

His tone was accusatory, his irritation visible. You put on your sweetest smile. “Where did you put my novellas?” you signed, thinking for a moment before adding, “Bitch?”

“They aren’t ‘novellas’, they’re—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “They’re filth. I don’t want you rotting your brain with smut.”

“The plots are very—”

“The plots are half-baked excuses for paper-thin characters to fondle each other in locations you can tell the author didn’t take the time to properly research and—” His gaze flickered to you, his frown deepening. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You’ve read them?”

There was a long beat of silence.

Finally, he let out a labored sigh. “The dozen or so I couldn’t be bothered to throw away are in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. It’s locked – the code is your birthday. Now, where are my aids?”

“You fell asleep with them on last night,” you said aloud, abandoning his glorified textbook and pushing yourself to your feet. His hand shot to the side of his head, finding the metallic cuff only slightly displaced by having spent the better half of the night on his head. As you passed him, you paused, pressing a kiss into the corner of his scowl and pretending to ignore the muffled groan he let out in response.

Neuvillette

Of all the sights you thought you might see after arriving in your wonderous new nation, the Iudex of Fontaine standing over your drained bathtub with a look of potent remorse written across his expression was not one of them.

You’d imagined yourself strolling through the walls of the Opera Epiclese in vivid detail, been able to picture exactly what you might’ve seen standing below the Tower of Ipsissimus or above the bottomless pit that was the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, but even after you’d found yourself in the smothering care of Monsieur Neuvillette, you never would’ve been able to conjure this sight. He usually insisted that you bathe together, going so far as to have an in-ground tub that could’ve easily been mistaken for a hot spring installed in his (until recently neglected) personal residence to better indulge the habit. Thankfully, the trial he’d been presiding over had run long today, and you’d been able to save yourself an hour of his calloused hands running over your body, of his eyes burning into your skin with a nearly inhuman focus. You knew he’d be disappointed. Irate, even, depending on how his trial swung.

You hadn’t expected him to be so… sulky about it.

Half-lidded eyes, a slight pout tugging at the corner of his lips as he lingered idly in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the in-suite bathroom. Steam and silence laid heavy in the air – the latter you were eventually forced to break as you fiddled with the hem of your robe. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, hoping more to break the tension than to make him think you were genuinely apologetic. “It was getting late, and I didn’t know when you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” When he didn’t respond, you braced yourself for the worst. “If you’re angry, please say so. I… I’d rather get this over with now, if it’s all the same to you.”

His expression softened. He let out an airy sigh and, with only a moment of hesitation, closed the space between you. “I’m not angry.” A pair of lean arms wrapped around your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale, and did what you could to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine at the thought of him basking in your scent. “I’ve just been… looking forward to it, I suppose. Your taste relaxes me.”

Immediately, you went rigid. “My… taste?”

“Mhm.”

“Neuvillette,” you started, very slowly, giving your own mind time to catch up to the dread slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “Have you been drinking my bathwater?”

He was quiet for a not inconsiderable amount of time.

Finally, he pulled away from you just far enough to speak. “…no?”

For your own sake, you decided to believe him.

Kaveh

“Kaveh.”

“Not now, treasure.”

“Go to bed.”

“I will, in another hour.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“I’ve already told you – I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, expression contorted by concentration. “Knight to B4.”

“Kaveh,” you repeated, leaning across the table. “You were showing me your blueprints.”

“Oh.” He blinked several times, looking over the sheet of blue paper marked with chalk drawings and near indecipherable hand-writing. “Were you impressed?”

Your frown irked, but you swallowed back your exasperation and pushed yourself to your feet. Slowly, you took him by the hand and, when he failed to protest, guided him out of his own seat and towards the room you were usually restrained to, when he wasn’t home. He’d kept himself awake for the past two nights, every moment of the past forty-eight hours devoted to finishing his proposal for a wealthy commissioner’s summer mansion before its upcoming deadline and, now that the coffee had been drained from his system and his adrenaline had been given time to fade, he was practically a shell of a man – all dark circles and hunched posture and disheveled blonde hair.

Sleep deprivation was, by far, the worst thing he could inflict on himself. At least he was happy after he drunk himself into oblivion. This was just depressing; as miserable for him as it was for you.

With a dutifulness you shouldn’t have had to show to your lover-turned-stalker-turned-captor, you brought him to his bed and watched as he collapsed onto it, what little strength he had to hold himself up immediately dissolving. With a sigh, a roll of your eyes, you turned to leave, but a hand lashed out from the crumpled heap and caught you by the wrist. “Stay with me?” His voice was muffled by layers of sheets and blankets, but clear enough. “Please?”

Usually, his bids for affection were met with bitter neutrality or, on your worse days, spiteful condensation. Usually, you would’ve torn yourself out of his hold and made sure he knew that he’d ruined any chance of living out his little domestic fantasy the second he decided his obsession was worth more than your happiness. Usually, you would’ve hated him that much more for daring to ask.

But, he could barely hold his eyes open and when you failed to immediately recoil, the sloppiest, most lovesick smile you’d ever seen plastered itself across his lips. It was his turn to pull you forward, this time; to drag you onto his bed and into his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he slotted his chin against the dip of your shoulder and draped his arms around your waist – an old position. A relic of better times you’d never been strong enough to completely dicard. “When it’s time to draw up the plans for our home,” he mumbled, only half-audible. “I won’t so much as breathe until its perfect.”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t say anything.

He’d already fallen asleep.

Tighnari

He glanced once at the thick packet of ink-marked parchment you’d slammed in front of him before looking back to you, his expression disparaging. “And this is supposed to be…?”

“A custody agreement,” you answered, grinning. “Alhaitham put it together during his last visit.”

“We don’t have any kids.”

“It’s for Collei. If I ever leave you,” and, to be clear, you would be leaving him, as soon as you figured out how to get away from a man who poisoned your tea whenever you so much as suggested entertaining a future that didn’t include him, “I want weekends and summers.”

“She’s nineteen.”

“Which is why we’re letting her pick who she wants to spend holidays with.” You tapped the front page with your knuckles. “Honestly, dear, if you weren’t going to so much as read the documents, we could’ve scheduled this for another day.”

His ears twitched, his tail sweeping across the floor in irritation. “Even if this was legally binding – which, by the way, something assembled by a scribe would not be – I would never give you weekends. That’d be too much travelling for a girl in her condition, and I don’t want her to feel like she comes from a broken home. Moreover, according to Regulation #531 as passed by the Grand Sage last year, you would have to get Collei’s signature before—”

“Check page twenty-seven.”

You watched him scowl as he thumbed through the pages. A second later, his ears flattened against his scalp, and he took to muttering under his breath. “Traitor.”

“If you don’t want your aggression towards the dependent party used against you in court, I’d suggest you sign on page four, seventeen, and thirty-two.”

You left his villa half an hour later with a with a new imprint of his fangs on the side of your throat and a signed document in-hand.

Cyno

“You have kidnapped me.”

“Technically, I was only—”

“You’ve blackmailed me, imprisoned me, and tortured me.”

“You can’t still be hung up on—”

“You’ve branded me with your name, forced me into your bed, and made me play out all your delusional, fucked-up fantasies—” You took a deep breath, pursed your lips. “—but if you show up to a black-tie event wearing that, it will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”

He looked down, as if considering his attire for the first time. He was in his usual uniform – which was to say, shirtless and barefoot, his hair windblown and a fine layer of sand still coating what little he was wearing. You could only be thankful his polearm wasn’t slung across his back, but you knew he’d make it past the door without it. “The way I dress has never been a problem before.”

“There’s a difference between hunting down rouge scholars and going to a banquet being held by a literal god. Archons, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself might be there.” You gasped, dragged your hands over your face. “Everyone who’s ever gone to the Akademiya will absolutely be there.”

For all his many faults, he could never stand to see you in pain. There was a brief delay, a moment of unsure shuffling, then his arms were wrapping around you, his chest slotting against your back has he pulled you against him. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, speaking into your shoulder. “If anyone so much as attempts to insult you—no, if anyone tries to talk to you at all, I’ll strike them down in the blink of an eyes.”

His comfort was stale, but you forced yourself to relax. At least enough to speak. “You know,” you mumbled, letting your hands drift to your temples. “Dehya was hired by an up-and-coming scholar, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how long her contract was, but there’s a chance we’ll see her tonight.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

“Cyno?”

“I’ll change.”

Wriothesley

You could hear him trudging up the metallic stairs to his office; his footsteps heavy enough to drown out the soft music flowing out of his century-old gramophone. His head emerged from the curving staircase, first – his hair somehow more disheveled than its usual state of barely-tamed chaos – then his chest, his tie undone and his collar terribly mangled, as if he’d spent all day indulging the worst of his nervous habits. He was baring his teeth, his pale cheeks flushed with anger and his eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for (in your wildest dreams, he would’ve managed to sink his beloved fortress before he ever reached you), but it was close enough.

You moved to stand, to greet him with the warm embrace he usually demanded, but he was already in front of you, already pinning you to the back of the lounge you’d been splayed across with a single fist planted less than a hair’s width above your shoulder. “You,” he growled, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “Do you know how many journalistsI had to deal with today? They were everywhere. I couldn’t go a step without tripping over some— over some glorified tabloid.”

“So, your meeting with Monsieur Neuvillette went well?” His scowl deepened, and you let out your most faux innocent laugh – a chiming, bubbling thing he’d never been able to stand. “You shouldn’t scowl like that, love. All those photographers will have to find a new model if you manage to give yourself frown lines.”

He jolted, but forced himself to shut his eyes, to let out a long, ragged breath. When he did face you again, he’d regained a degree of his composure – just enough to meet your smile with his own tight-lipped grin, more teeth than anything. “I’ll let you off easy if you tell me how you did it now. Before I decide it’d be faster to strangle an explanation out of you.”

“I didn’t break any rules, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You paused, folded your hands over your lap. “It was all thanks to our great and benevolent duke. Contacting people outside of the fortress has gotten so much more efficient ever since you decided prisoners should be able to send letters without administrative vetting.”

He buckled visibly, his shoulders falling as he lean towards you, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” There was a raspy chuckle, a hand on your thigh, squeezing just hard enough for his anger to shine through the playfulness of the gesture. “I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off, and I think you’ve earned—”

The door to his office swung open before he could finish, a masculine voice calling up from the voice below only a moment later. “Your grace, t-there’s a reporter here to see you! She says she’s been told not to leave until she speaks to your partner!”

“That’ll be Charlotte,” you half-sung. “She seemed like such a nice girl in her letters. It’d be a shame to keep her waiting.”

When he failed to answer, you brought up both hands and cupped his face, cooing as you used your thumbs to quirk the corners of his mouth upward.

“Just remember to smile for the camera this time, alright?”

3K notes · View notes

porcelana-r0ta · 9 months

Text

let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was.

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM:

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin.

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia.

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option.

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?”

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response.

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house.

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death.

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building.

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?”

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.”

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl.

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house.

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight.

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!”

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.”

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.”

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms.

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly.

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs.

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead.

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.”

“What did I do?”

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?”

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!”

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand.

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.”

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?”

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.”

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.”

Damn, Jason curses to himself.

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?”

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.”

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.”

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!”

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.”

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face.

Jazz doesn’t dispute it.

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t.

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.”

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!”

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!”

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again.

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.”

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab.

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy.

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green.

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell.

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?”

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings.

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral.

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it.

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery.

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton.

“Why are the fucking Bats here?”

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?”

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?”

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.”

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?”

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls.

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating.

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.”

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks.

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.”

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks.

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.”

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.”

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it.

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.”

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.”

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully.

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?”

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X:

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her.

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #batman #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #the joker #johnny 13 #severely ooc

3K notes · View notes

abyssmalice · 2 years

Text

“If anyone has pictures of my big brother being or looking or doing something stupid as a kid, please call 666-666-4444 to let me know. I am collecting these rare specimens for preservation and blackmail sake.”

#ic | (heard and loved);#(ok one last shitpost before bed dsucydsg)

1 note · View note

sansundertale14x1 · 2 months

Text

why NauseAxe_404 loves your writing so much…

based on this silly tweet, I’m gonna use ‘Nick’ for this- for ease of writing (and for my poor poor hands.)

no pronouns but ‘you’- little post cuz I haven’t written in a while.- use of the in-game website: "Dumblr", no it's not a typo;-; Proshippers DNI

word count: 878

content warning: brief explanations of canon violence, creepy stalker-ish behavior (NOTHING SEXUAL ATTACHED), Nick being a weirdo honestly.

vvv that isn't my art, and this entire writing is a fanfic for a game " Monster x Mediator" made by HeadLocker! I really recommend playing the game or watching the gameplay, cuz it's really fantastic!

Story under cut :3

Nick’s in love with your writing…(if you already couldn’t tell), but it’s difficult for you to understand why.

Usually, when you'd open up your laptop, it was after a tough shift at your crap job and you just wanted to do something to fill in the time after dinner and before bed. It was always on the shorter side, 100 words each, and was normally just a quick and crappy self-insert fic to satisfy your creative urges from doing a boring-ass job all day. You never really thought your tiny one-shots would attract any attention, but the man you've been staying with proves otherwise.

"NauseAxe_404" is what he called himself, but you've just been calling him 'Nick' for now. He had been reading your old Dumblr blog for who knows how long, and he's taken a major interest in your little shitposts...So much, so that he had taken the time to print out every single one of your posts and personal information pinned to his room's walls. It's extremely creepy...but also sort of charming?

For the last few days or so, you've been held in Nick's hotel room, practically glued to a desk with a typewriter...slowly making your way through a 100-paged fic that he specifically requested of you. Though you technically could stand up and leave...you'd really prefer for your skull to stay in one piece...and not have a bullet put through your temple.

Nick has been staring at you almost the entire time...which only certified in your mind that he is not human. Every time you turn to see if he's still there...like an unmoving fortress, he always is. It's been a solid 8+ hours of you sitting there and writing...and your stomach starts to emit loud sounds of hunger. You pray he didn't hear that, and continue to type away at the dated machine. However, to your dismay, his deep voice chimes in.

"...What page are you on...?"

Nick asks, seemingly trying to speak quietly for you, but his naturally booming voice isn't giving you any favors.

"...uhm..."

You take a moment to review what you have done...it doesn't look like much but it feels like it took AGES to write out...

"About...10? It's not a-"

"That's wonderful, Superstar!"

He cuts you off just as you begin to speak.

Of course, he's going to be ecstatic. You can't fathom why he seems to be so hopelessly in love with whatever you slap on the paper. You're curious..so you begin to speak.

"...uhm...Nick...why do you..take interest in my writing?"

You softly speak, trying to be careful with your words...you can't afford to overstimulate this man.

For a chatty guy...Nick was oddly silent at the ask of this question…or at least for a few seconds.

“I was trying to find a way to ease the boredom and loneliness of this fucking hotel, so…huff…I joined Dumblr and started to search for writing…that was…huff….purposeful…and that could fix me..”

No way in hell your crackfics could change this man...He must've come out of the womb like that. (or...however the hell he was made..)

"...I came across your first post years ago..huff...and fell in love with the way you wrote your love interest....huff...I knew you were talking about me when I wrote all those comments~"

You never looked at comments due to embarrassment...and you honestly didn't think anyone would even care to comment in the first place.

"....you weren't responding to me...huff...so I might've found everything about you in the meantime...huff...just so I could notice you in a crowd...I always will~"

Okay, now it's getting creepy. You hope that by just turning back around and continuing to write maybe he'd shut up...You guess it's sorta your fault for striking up a conversation with the creep.

"All the other writers don't know shit about writing...huff...1k word counts...huff...long and complicated stories that don't make any fucking sense..."

There goes the rambles. You stop typing for a moment to process what the hell he just said. He either is really balls-deep into this fantasy of you being a perfect human...or he's just trying to fluff you up so you'll continue writing for him. He's really delusional, that's it. It's seriously hard to believe your crap was life-changing for Nick.

“Simplicity is the most important part…huff…not describing some stupid walk sequence for 3 sentences…huff…it’s a waste of space..”

"....maybe you just like simpler writing...?"

You softly reply, yet again praying that you didn't accidentally strike a chord with this guy. He stares you down, and even if you aren't looking back at him, you can still feel the burning of his eyes on the back of your head.

"That's possible."

Oh, it's highly probable. He gets so emotional over the tiniest bit of anything, so...He just doesn't need too many words to evoke a reaction...It checks out because you also like to write a straight-to-the-point sorta piece.

"but don't let your mind wander for...huff...too long...my superstar...you've got at least 90+ pages to go~"

Shit, he was right...time to get back to work.

224 notes · View notes

behindthesoul · 6 months

Text

Forgotten Child - Ch. 2 (SMUT)

Shang Tsung x Reader

Masterlist || Previous Part || Next Part

Characters - Shang Tsung, you

Summary - Shang realizes he’s more in love with you than he thought.

Word Count - 1149

Warnings - smut (18+ pretty pleaseee), oral sex, reader’s genitalia isn’t specified, Shang is a liar, he hates you and himself, not proofread hehehe

Tags - @mortal-kombat-shitposts

Shang Tsung never anticipated becoming so deeply attached to you. His initial mission was straightforward: earn your trust, gather necessary information, and depart. However, he found himself caught off guard by the way your eyes brightened whenever he entered a room, by the comfort of your embrace after a long day, and by the simple, genuine way you treated him – like a normal person. These unexpected displays of affection and warmth drove him to the brink of insanity.

He snuck into your room late one night, craving your touch. You responded by laying him on your bed and placing kisses on his neck. Shang tenses, he was in his laboratory all day. You’d scream in terror if you saw what went on there.

“I apologize, it was not my intention to make you uncomfortable,” you say after you quickly pull away from him, misreading his tension. “I will stop-”

“No, continue,” he interrupts. Shang forces his body to relax before speaking again. “Please.”

You nod before attacking his neck again, he closes his eyes and memorizes the feeling of your lips on his neck. Soft, slightly chapped lips sucking his skin and leaving marks he’d have to cover before he left in the morning. Shang thinks back to his life just months prior; staring in the mirror at bruises given to him by angry townsfolk. Each scar and bruise handed to him in the past was replaced by your loving marks.

“May I continue?” you ask, pulling Shang back into reality. He never noticed your hand dancing around his crotch. He stiffens under you and nods. But it’s not enough.

“Say it. Let me hear your voice.”

You receive an impatient huff before getting a response. “Yes, continue.”

You hum before you remove his clothes and carefully place them on the floor. Shang doesn’t know what to do with himself when you pause and admire his body. Your eyes hold such tenderness; never had he imagined someone would regard him in such a way. Still, he refuses to wait a minute longer. He grabs your hand and wraps it around the place he needs you most, shuddering as he feels your grip tighten.

You laugh before quickly removing your hand. You spit in your palm, briefly wishing you had a better lubricant, before wrapping it around him again. You experiment with different rhythms until you find the one that made his legs twitch and hands tremble. He bites his lip to prevent moans and gasps from escaping his mouth. You assume he's ensuring no one overhears, yet he's desperate to prevent you from gaining complete control, to stop you from shattering the final barrier guarding his locked-away heart.

It’s almost disgusting how he’s responding to your touch. Blown pupils, disheveled hair, throbbing chest, and a blush decorating his pale skin; It's a striking, almost comical difference from his usual poised and collected demeanor.

He damn near died when you took him in your mouth.

He was already inching toward bliss, but you just had to go ahead and push him closer to the edge. Shang blames his sensitivity on the fact he hasn’t had sex in years, choosing to ignore the part of his brain that reminds him of the night you two shared last week. He finally whimpers when your tongue drags across the crying tip, lapping at the sticky pre-cum. Gazing down at you with half-lidded eyes, he's relieved that your mouth is occupied, well aware that you would likely jest about finally coaxing a sound out of him. Shang feels dizzy as his body burns, signaling his body’s eventual betrayal. With one last swipe over the tip of his dick, he cums with a soft groan, spilling into your mouth. His body jerks with aftershocks and he weakly pushes you off when the pleasure turns into over-sensitivity.

You look down at him and swallow his cum. “Beautifully done, sorcerer,” you say. He huffs in amusement while he catches his breath.

“I think it was you who did the hard work.”

“Hm, I disagree,” you tease. You’re sick, just sick. You just attempted murder and you have the nerve to smile down at him.

Shang manages to catch his breath and decides to be a gentleman. He rolls over and pins you under him, feeling a little irritated when he realizes you’re still fully clothed. Your robes are quickly torn off, different to the way you gently undressed him.

The night is starting to grow tired of keeping you hidden and tells you to hurry by encouraging the sun to rise. Shang groans, annoyed; he won’t be able to take his time with you like he wants. He throws your legs over his shoulder and replicates your earlier movements with his tongue. Swirling, flicking, anything that will make your body give out the way his did - which it does. You’re much more willing to be vulnerable than your lover. You melt into his tongue and allow a string of expletives and moans to escape your mouth. Shang hums when you whine his name and it sends a shiver down your spine. His hands massage your thighs, addicted to the way they tremble.

The birds singing outside signal the end of your moment together, a final warning to you and Shang. He rolls his eyes but encourages you to cum. Your hands find purchase in the bed sheets while your stomach tightens. You cry out with the birds, releasing into his mouth and on the bed sheets. Panting, you squeeze Shang’s hand. He lays down next to you and stares into your eyes.

“When will I be able to tell Outworld you’ve captured my heart?” Shang feels slightly empty when you avert your gaze. He wants to laugh at you suddenly feeling shy when you were choking on his dick just moments earlier.

“Soon, my darling,” he lies, “you can be patient for a little while longer.”

“Well, will you at least give me the pleasure of a nice breakfast? I’ll tell the servants I am not well, and we’ll eat in here.”

“I am afraid not. I must meet with the Empress on important matters.” He almost regrets lying when your face falls. Shang is to assist Quan Chi with setting up the soul stealers. You get out of bed and quickly put your robes back on; he does the same.

“Be in the gardens after dark,” he blurts out. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until your eyes light up. You nod, before opening your window so he could leave.

“Yes! I will be there!”

With a final nod, Shang gracefully takes his leave from your room. Internally, a torrent of self-directed expletives courses through his thoughts. He berates himself for the hasty commitment he made to meet with you, regretting the words that slipped from his lips so easily.

God, he misses you already.

#mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat fanfic #shang tsung x reader

181 notes · View notes

foxyarchive · 1 month

Text

Your Guardian Angel(Or Devil) P3

You go on a date, and Adam can't resist being a dick about it. Set between chapters 1 & 2.

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Drinking, mild spice, brief dubious consent with Adam(nothing bad, promise).

Words: ~6k

Well found out I'm bad at writing stuff that's not plot LMAO like Reader and Adam shitposting. Wanna do more of it but it's hard for me to write... So probably plot either next chapter or next. Tried to prolong as long as I could soz.

Tags in comments! Ask to be added to the Taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

You step out of the shower with a sigh, toweling off your body and drying your hair as best as you can for the time being. You had a few hours until you were going out, so you were going to take your time getting yourself looking nice and presentable. You wrap the towel around your body, bending over your sink to wash your face and brush your teeth. When you’ve finished that, you move to adjust your towel so it doesn’t fall, trying to decide what you want to use on your hair.

“Weeeeelll, looks like I popped up at the right time.” You scream in shock, your hand fumbling as your towel drops and pools around your feet. You hear a whistle, and look over with a burning face as you see Adam standing just outside your bathroom door, biting his lip and wiggling his brows.

“A-Adam! Fuck– S-Stop looking!” You crow, trying to cover your bits as best you can as you bend down to pick up your towel. He just laughs, pointing a finger at you as you try to remain a shred of modesty. Your face and body are unbearably warm right now in embarrassment. You can’t even look him in the eye.

“Chillaaaax, sweet-tits, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Comes his too haughty for your liking response. Somehow, you burn even more at that as you try to wrap your towel around yourself.

“W-What? You’ve… Seen me naked before?” You tremble a bit, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the sudden admission to the lack of privacy.

“Duh. I have this orb thing that lets me just look in on you whenever I want. I don’t really use it, though, don’t care enough to watch your boring ass life.” He says it so nonchalantly, you can’t help but to feel goosebumps raise over your skin. The look across your face must’ve caught his attention, as he just gives another wave of his hand and roll of his eyes as he turns away from you. “It’s a Guardian thing, don’t make it fuckin’ weird now. I mean, unless you wanna.” He looks back at you with a sly leer, raising his brows once again.

“No!” You respond, almost immediately, appalled at the implication. One that an angel was making, no less! Wasn’t he supposed to be more… Virtuous? You do remember the last time you saw him, though… Implied he could really get away with whatever he wanted. There has to be certain boundaries that can’t be crossed, though. He just shrugs, turning away boredly.

“Your loss, babes.” He makes his way into your bedroom, and you follow after him as you finish fixing your towel around yourself.

“Isn’t lust a sin?” You can’t help but ask as he spreads out his wings and flops back onto your bed carelessly.

“‘Isn’t lust a sin!?’” He mocks you in that stupid ass voice again, and you puff out your cheeks in annoyance. “I don’t sin. I’m fuckin’ Adam, in case you forgot. I’m perfect.” He grins, pointing at himself. He then proceeds to roll over to his side, propping his head up with a hand as his elbow rests on the bed. You just suppress a sigh, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. Wait… He was here. Did that mean…?

“Was I about to die?” You suddenly gape, looking around the room, wondering what was going to happen. An earthquake? Maybe you use a blow dryer and you almost get electrocuted? Slipping and falling out of the shower, perhaps? You look back when he doesn’t respond at first, and you see the face he makes.

“The fuck? No, what?” He frowns, and you mirror the confusion on your face.

“But… That’s why you’re here… Right? You come around to prevent my death…?” You inquire, slowly, and a small look of realization passes across his features.

“Oooh… Yeah, nah, I was just bored. Wanted to swing by, see how your shitty mortal life was going.” He declares, flopping onto his back once more, resting his hands on his stomach. His horns rest over the side of your bed. So does most of his body. He’s massive.

“Are you allowed to do that?” You blink. He turns his head slightly towards you, exasperated.

“‘Tits, we just went over this.” He deadpans. Oh. Right. He’s Adam. He can do… Whatever he wants, apparently.

“Err. Okay, right, well…” You shift from side to side, somewhat nervous. Some droplets fall from your hair onto your shoulders and back, despite having tried to dry it off earlier. “Sorry to… Disappoint you? But I’m going out tonight, so I can’t… Hangout??” What do you even say? Did he want to hang out? Just say hello? What kind of weird relationship were you starting to build with your divine fucking angel?

“Wow, finally doin’ something on a Friday night besides binging a shitty show, doing a game, or jilling off?” He remarks, sitting up now as your face heats up even more.

“D-Don’t say that!” You groan, turning away as you cover your face with your hands at his crass words. He really does look in on you! You’re not proud about how you spend some of your weekend nights… You like to go hangout with your friends when you can, but everyone can get so busy. You hear him mockingly laugh, which only makes you heat up more in embarrassment. “For your information, I have a date tonight! So if you can just… Fly off or whatever so I can get ready, that would be great, thanks.” You snip over your shoulder, turning and walking back in the bathroom.

You squeak in surprise as Adam suddenly appears in front of you, wings flared as he hunches over your smaller stature. “A date, huh? Really? You?” He sneers, and you scoff, anger flaring in your chest.

“Yes, me! That’s rude. I’m attractive! And capable of dating. And holding conversations. I’m doing it with you right now!” You pause, briefly. “The conversation part, I mean.” He hums, giving a small nod of his head, crossing his arms as he tucks his wings back against his side.

“Uh-huh, suuuure. And you don’t want me to go with you?” He rubs his chin, and you squint at him.

“What are you getting at? Why would I want you to come with? So you can distract me?” You roll your eyes, inching passed him to go and gather some makeup to put on.

“Babes, if you’re that distracted by me, maybe it’s best to not go out with some other bozo while you’re thinkin’ about me. After all, I am right here.” He grins, slinging an arm across your shoulder. You stiffen at the contact, swallowing nervously as he dips his face close to yours. Why did your Guardian Angel have to be so horny? Looking at the size of him as well, even if you both did end up tangled in bed, you’re not even certain it’d fit… “Thinkin’ about this dick? Don’t blame you.” He lightly grips your chin with the arm around your shoulder, pushing it to look towards him. He cranes his head closer to you. You’re horrified he caught on to your train of thought. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel fucking great. I’ll make sure that pretty little pus–”

“No, no, stop!” As he begins to ramble, you suddenly pull yourself away from him, breathing more rapid. To your relief, he just looks irritated, but he doesn’t pressure you or crowd you again. He pulls back, even seeming to flatten his wings a little more against his side to make himself appear less large. “I’m not– You’re not– This is… Inappropriate! I’m like… Your client, or whatever!” You grimace at the wording, even if it’s true. Adam just rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“I fuckin’ told you, it doesn’t matter. We can do whatever the fuck we want.” He pauses. “Almost anything. Fucking is on the list, though.” He confirms with a nod. You just groan, putting your head in your hands.

“I… I don’t… I mean… How could you even want to fuck me?” You can’t help but ask, as you consider this more and more.

“Uuuh. Because you’re hot and got a rockin’ bod?” He lifts a brow. Well, guess that’s some sort of an ego boost for you… or is it? Adam seems like the kinda guy to stick his dick in anyone with a pulse that throws mild attention his way, really. Maybe you should take that comment with a grain of salt, then…

“No, I mean– You’ve watched me my whole life. Don’t you feel some sort of… I don’t know… Protective, parental kinship for me?” You can’t help but ask, grimacing a bit at the thought. You don’t know whether to feel angry or embarrassed as he starts laughing at you, full blown, even hunching over a bit. “Why are you– That’s not funny!” You stutter out. It’s anger you feel, alright. He straightens up some, trying to calm down, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Oooh. Oh, that’s fuckin’ hilarious, ‘tits. Really, super funny.” He wheezes, an easy grin crossing his features as he puts his hands on his hips. “Nice try, but ah, no. You’re right, in a sense. You’re basically just my nuisance client.” He pauses, tapping his chin. “Mm… Maybe more like a pet.” He mumbles in thought, and you feel another flare of anger.

“A– A pet!?” You cry in outrage.

“Yeah! But like, a fuckable one. Shit, wait no, that sounds fucking weird, back that up–” He puts his hands up, and you decide to bite your tongue as you resist the urge to go and pluck his wings. “Uuugh, why are you making me describe this shit! Look.” He finally breathes in, clasping his hands together as he takes a step towards you. You shift a half step back, and he stops, but continues talking. “To me, you’re just this lady I gotta look after. Like I said, I didn’t really actually watch you. Checked occasionally because Sera was on my dick about it, but that’s whatever. You’re like, what, thirty something now, though?”

“I’m–” You begin to offer him your correct age, but he just waves you off.

“Whatever, you’re old.” You huff at his comment. “You’re an adult, you can make your own fuckin’ choices, yada yada. All I'm saying is: Original dickmaster, right here.” He grins, pointing to himself. You remain silent, still eyeing him, face still slightly scrunched up. Even if you both were two consenting adults(with him falling more along the lines of… primordial demi-God way older than you), you're not losing sight of what you have in mind tonight. Especially not for Adam, who has been quite callous with you. You're not even sure he actually likes you.

“Okay, well… Thanks for all the clarification. I guess.” You utter the last part under your breath, turning away from him. “Still going out with my date tonight. Still would like it if you weren't there.” You then declare, moving past him once more to go and get ready, and you just hear a scoff leave his throat.

“You sure ‘bout that? Hear men on Earth are pretty shitty. What if he tries to… I dunno, kill you or something?” He states, and you can see the squint he’s eyeing you with through your mirror.

“Then you’ll protect me? Like you’re supposed to?” You can’t help but to bite out in response, growing tired of this. Adam hisses out a slow, quiet breath through his teeth, clicking his tongue.

“I dunno about that… I mean, what if it’s your time? What if this is where you meet your fate? At the hands of some dude you think is cool?” The seed he sows in your head makes you pause at what you’re doing. He did say that he knew when you were going to die, but… He’s just fucking with you. He has to be.

“Okay, well, even if this was where I was going to die, then who cares? It’s fate, right? You can’t interfere with that.” You roll your eyes, trying to quell the now uncertain flutter in your stomach. He walks forward once more, hovering right behind you as he cranes his neck down slightly to peer at you. You don’t turn around to meet him, only eye him uncertainly through the mirror.

“Don’t you remember who I am?” He utters to you, quietly, and that makes you pause. There’s no shot he can circumvent your death… Right? Besides, he was just bluffing. You were going to be fine tonight. He backs off, though, abrupt and with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Just saying. Lotta stuff can happen.” Then he disperses in a flitter of gold. You’ve never felt more uncertain in your life. You assume he’s just trying to get your goat, but the anxiety in you is beginning to try and spin a tale otherwise. You look ahead, just focusing on getting ready.

The rest of the time you doll yourself up, it’s blissfully quiet, which acts as both a blessing and a curse. You can just focus on the night ahead, but it also lets you mull over your thoughts about what Adam said. He’s just fucking with me. He’s not serious about it. Why is he even saying stuff like that? You ponder as you finally get into your car, heading towards the bar you were supposed to be meeting your date. You park, check yourself in the mirror, and head inside. There you spot your date, sitting at the bartop, and all you can think of currently is thank God you didn’t get catfished.

“Hey! Ryan, right?” You smile as you approach, and he looks at you, offering a smile in return. He inquires your name, and you nod, unto which he shakes your hand when you hold it out. Well, it starts as a handshake, and turns into a somewhat unprompted hug, which you gingerly return before you sit next to him.

“It’s great to meet you in person! You look lovely.” He compliments, and you offer a bashful smile, returning a compliment yourself. After you both decide on what to drink and order, he faces back towards you. You both begin to divulge the basics of one another– What you do for work, what hobbies you have, some places you’ve visited before. It’s going fine, and he’s awfully nice, but you can’t help but to feel… A little bored. Any spark you had felt over texting him through the app you’d met him in is slowly beginning to drain. You have a few things in common, but not much, and you can’t help but to feel a little worn down with the conversation. It certainly doesn’t help that you’ve ordered another drink as well. Why the Hell did you do that?

As you’re beginning to feel your eyes glaze over when he talks about a very… Uninteresting work trip he had in a rather monotonous way, something catches your attention. It’s out of the corner of your eye. A flicker of gold. You glance over, seeing nothing of the sort, and shift a bit to draw your attention back to Ryan. Suddenly, your date flinches a bit, and you frown, sitting up. “Are you okay?” You ask, and he rubs the side of his head, glancing around. You look down, noticing a partially discarded peanut shell next to his barstool.

“Yeah, sorry, I… I thought I felt something.” He frowns, looking back at you, giving a sheepish smile. “Guess it was nothing. Anyways, as I was saying, we arrived at this studio where–” You see the peanut shell coming this time, smacking Ryan square in the ear. He looks behind him, and slowly, you do as well. Your eyes stretch wide in mortification. You see Adam, sitting at an empty table, a smirk on his face with an array of used peanut shells on the table. Someone had just left, and looks like he decided to sit there and bug your date. For a moment, a flicker off worry runs through you. Can Ryan see him? You crane your neck over a bit, but by the look of stark confusion on his features, it’s clear that he can’t. “Did– Did you see anyone throw something at me?” He frowns, and you bite the inside of your cheek. You can see Adam’s grin widen.

“No.” You respond, because truthfully, you didn’t actually see Adam do it. You’re sure it’s him, though… Ryan just rubs the back of his neck, giving you a sheepish look.

“I swear, I keep feeling something pelting me… I guess it just must be my imagination.” He murmurs, and your eyes shift past him. You see Adam lining up another shell, biting his tongue in concentration. You give him a warning glare as best as you can without making it seem like you’re pointing your stare towards Ryan, but either Adam doesn’t catch onto it or doesn’t care. He flicks his middle finger, and the shell goes flying, thunking Ryan right on the back of his head. This time, Ryan stands up, flustered as he looks around to try and catch the culprit. You dig your nails into your palms as Adam begins to laugh, pointing at your date as he leans back in the chair.

“Ahah– You should– You should see his face. He’s so pissed. And confused. Not– Not sure which he’s more of.” He cackles. You try your best– You really, really do. You want to be upset with Adam interrupting things, but you can’t help giving a snort of laughter. You then cover your mouth, trying to stifle it as best as you can as Ryan’s head swivels around to catch the culprit.

“Are– Are you okay, Ryan?” You try not to wheeze or show that much of a smile as he huffs out, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“No– I mean, yes, I just– There is somebody here who is pelting me with… With something.” He finally looks at the ground, near him, seeing the shells. “With peanuts, I suppose… I can’t find out who.” You feel guilty, now, as you see the embarrassed look across his features. Even more guilty that you have to pretend like he’s crazy. Is this gaslighting?

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen anyone doing anything.” You finally say. You don’t feel good about it, but what can you do? Tell him your primordial guardian angel that acts like a twelve year old is flicking used peanut shells at him?

“Yes, I’m sure! I think I am, at least.” He’s looking more and more uncertain now, sheepishly sitting back down. You offer him a comforting pat on his hand as he takes a sip of his drink, trying not to draw your eyes away from him as Adam comes over.

“This dude is soooo boring. Why don’t you fuckin’ leave already?” He scoffs, crossing his arms as he glowers down at Ryan. You stiffen as you see someone walking in the path of Adam, but to your slight surprise(and relief), the person walks right through him. Adam’s body shimmers and ripples a bit as it happens, but it doesn’t seem to disturb him at all. For obvious reasons, you can’t respond, especially as Ryan speaks back up.

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m just… Being paranoid. I’m a little nervous, sorry, but the date has been wonderful so far! You’re really interesting, I’m so glad I got to come out here with you.” He admits, smiling a bit bashfully, and you can’t help but to smile at the rather sweet admission as well. You feel your cheeks warm. You see Adam faux gag himself with a finger, and you suppress the urge to snip something to him.

“I’m glad we got to do this, too.” You respond back to Ryan. Well, even if you didn’t really click, it was still nice to get out and get a drink. Speaking of… Maybe you should finish your second one a little faster. A flicker of guilt passes through you. Perhaps… You could make a bit more of an effort. Ask additional questions about his trip, engage more where you can. “What, uh… Made you want to work as an interior designer? Family, or just something personal?” You decide on, because that can always be interesting. Ryan seems to perk up at the question.

“My grandmother was one, actually! I didn’t realize how much I liked it until I went with her one day when I was younger to work in an emergency.” He chuckles. “I got to see how she worked, who she worked with, and how she would put some things together.”

“Ask him if he’s sure he’s actually interested in women.” Adam pipes up, moving to stand beside you, and you grit your jaw at his comment. That almost makes you snap out and snarl at him, but you try not to as Ryan continues to go on about the experience, as well as what pushed him further towards it. “Fucking– This guy is so boring. It’s boring me and I don’t even have to pretend to be listening.” He groans out, tilting his head back.

Why doesn’t he just leave? You can’t help but to think in irritation. Adam isn’t bound here. Unless… Something is going to happen, but you don’t get that feeling. You watch as your Guardian moves to stand beside your date, now, making a talking motion with his hand while he mimics something similar to ‘blah, blah, blah’ with his mouth. Trying to stifle a noise of anger, you quickly slam down your drink with a sigh, just as Ryan finishes his story. He can see the force you put your drink down with, and he blinks.

“Are you alright?” He inquires, and you sigh out, giving him a smile. Adam is really grinding your gears. Your head is just a bit fuzzy thanks to the drinks. You can think clearly enough, but you also feel on the edge enough to spite Adam with all of his comments tonight.

“Yeah, fine. Sorry. Getting a bit loud in here is all. Wanna head back to my place?” You find yourself asking, quirking a brow.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” It’s more of an exclamation than a question Adam shoots out, and you suppress a smirk, opting for the smile on your face. Ryan seems a little taken aback, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.

“I got some streaming services, if that’s to your fancy.” You add in. Ryan was boring, sure. You thought that, but hearing Adam say it and egg you on to leave just pushed you to do this. Plus, Ryan was really attractive. Like, totally your type.

“O-Oh. Yeah, sure, okay.” He smiles, bashful again, how sweet. He finishes his own drink, pays, and the two of you head out. You can see Adam standing in the background, irritation written all over his features, and you can’t help but to sneak a look back at him and stick out your tongue. He just flips you off before he disappears. You tell Ryan to follow you as you get into your car, and he gets into his, and you lead him back to your apartment. It’s quiet when you both walk in, and Adam isn’t even around anymore. Suddenly, you’re a bit irritated he didn’t stick around. You were supposed to be rubbing this in his face… Or something! Maybe not. You wanted him to leave, wanted to spite him, and clearly you did enough to make him piss off.

You’re… Almost a little sad, now. How awful of you.

“Sorry, uh… Don’t have a lot of people over. Or room in here.” You admit, as you motion to only the beanbag. It’s giant, sure, but it’s not a couch. “I could grab a chair from the nook, though, if you prefer.”

“No, no, this is fine! I really like it.” Ryan laughs a bit, taking a seat on one end of the beanbag, and you do the same. You flick on the television, and open up a streaming service. You both look through it, trying to decide what to watch, and finally decide on some documentary(courtesy of Ryan choosing it). You settle in, beginning to watch, and you’re just waiting for Adam to pop up at any moment. Nothing. You tap your finger on your arm. It’s quiet. A bit awkward. Ryan is fidgeting a bit, and so are you, and you suddenly wonder how this is going to go. He has the same idea, as he’s stealing glances at you occasionally.

Well. Fine, then. You didn’t invite Ryan over because he was a good conversationalist. You inch closer to him, and he does to you as well. His arm moves around your back, and you lean closer, gingerly resting your head on his shoulder. A few more minutes like that before he starts to rub his hand up and down your back. You play with the buttons on his top, undoing one deftly. He glances down at you, and you peer up at him, smiling somewhat shyly as he offers back a similar look. He’s the first to lean in, but you’re the first to meet him in a kiss. It begins chaste, even if both of your hands don’t remain so much, before it begins to progress further.

You sit up a bit more, slinging one leg between his own, stradling one of them now. You feel him lift his leg up a bit, and you can’t suppress the small groan that leaves your lips as you feel rub right up against your crotch. He gives a receptive groan and roll of his leg as you grind against him, bringing one hand to run through his hair, tugging on it. His palms slide down your back and sides, before one comes to grope your ass, and the other briefly fondles your breast, before he tugs on the hem of your shirt. You oblige, popping open another one for his own shirt, and he gets the message. You both briefly split from the kiss to remove your shirts, before diving back in with more fervor.

As you grind yourself on his leg, you allow one of your hands to travel down and palm him through his pants, able to feel how he’s straining already. For a moment, you both break the kiss for air, and he takes the time to tilt your head to the side, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck and collarbone as he works his hands on the back to unclasp your bra. You pant against him, head tilted, eyes half lidded, before you catch sight of something out of the corner of your eye. You gasp in shock just as your bra comes off, recoiling in fear as you see Adam standing off to the side. To your credit, he looks completely unimpressed, arms crossed, eyebrow raised as he watches the scene.

Ryan pauses, thinking you were startled by what he was doing. He looks flustered, gaze heavy with lust and confusion. “Sorry! I thought we were… Going to…” He begins, trailing off, and you look back at him, feeling flustered yourself.

“Yeah! Sorry, I thought… I saw something…” You begin to apologize, and you hear Adam blow a raspberry and give a thumbs down.

“C’mon, it was just gonna get good! Thought you wanted to fuck him, ‘tits. That’s why you invited him over, right?” He sneers, walking over now, looming over the two of you. You can’t help but to stare up at him, eyes wide, body incredibly warm in both arousal and embarrassment. It looks strange to Ryan, obviously, and he draws you back to him with a hand slowly creeping up your back. “Are… Are you okay?” He asks, quietly, tentatively.

“Y-Yes, I’m…” You taper off, unsure what to say. Adam shifts to stand behind you, putting a hand on your neck, slowly pushing your body closer to Ryan.

“Well, go on. Fuck him. You wanted to, right?” He hisses out, and you find yourself trembling. Why is… Why is Adam doing this? Why is he egging you on, when it sounds like he doesn’t actually want you to be doing this? Is this a test? Your trembling doesn’t stop, and that’s finally when Ryan grimaces a bit, pushing you back. Adam doesn’t force you forward anymore, letting you go as your date sits up.

“We don’t have to do this. It’s fine. It’s, um… A bit late, anyways, I should probably… Head out…” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he takes his hands away from you. You let out a breath, giving a small, spaced out nod as you shakily roll to the side. Ryan grabs his shirt, deftly slipping it back on and buttoning it up. All you can do is sit and watch, feeling Adam squinting at you out of the corner of your eye. Ryan gets to his feet, finally, clearing his throat once more as he looks down at you. “It was… Nice to meet you.” He winces, rubbing the back of his neck, and all you can do is purse your lips and nod in response. He takes that as his queue to leave, awkwardly turning and shuffling out to the door.

“...Drive safe.” You balk, weakly, after him as the door shuts behind him. You’re still topless, arms covering your breasts, and once he’s gone, you hear Adam sigh out.

“FINALLY. Holy shit he was soooo boring. Can’t believe you were trying to prove some point by inviting him over.” The angel huffs, plopping down next to you on the beanbag as you grab the remote. You just sit there, frozen, unsure of what to do or say. You feel as awkward as Ryan felt earlier as he begins to flip through channels. “I mean, not like that guy would’ve actually gotten you off I bet.” He laughs, flaring a wing out to slap you with it. You sputter lightly, shifting forward as you feel the soft feathers against your back. “Be a babe and get me some chips, will ya?” Numbly, you just stand up, still trying to process everything that’s happening. You still feel flustered. The inside of your underwear are slick, a true testament to how long it’s been since you’ve fooled around with someone else.

For a moment, you just stare down at Adam. He glances up at you, looking bored, and then irritated. He opens his mouth to say something, but you finally find your voice. “What– Why– Why did you do that? Interrupt us? Do you know how… How inappropriate that was!?” Now that the shock and embarrassment is wearing off, you finally feel anger broiling to the surface. You wave your hands about somewhat for emphasis. “You could have just interfered with something big for me! What if him and I were like… Fate, or something!? He could’ve been the love of my life! I’ll never know what could’ve been, now, because you popped up and were fucking weird!” You’re flushed again, baring your teeth in anger. What infuriates you even more is that, even though Adam’s eyes don’t have pupils, you can very clearly tell that he’s staring at your boobs. Right, you’re still shirtless.

“Adam!!” You shriek in frustration, grabbing your shirt and throwing it at his face. It’s his turn to sputter out, grabbing the garment as you snatch up your bra and begin to storm away, starting to put it back on.

“Chill, bitch, I’m listening! Why the fuck you getting so uppity for?” He snaps out, and you hear him get up too. Well, you hear the beanbag shift slightly, and you don’t even hear him as he seems to glide effortlessly over to you, grabbing your arm and flipping you around to face him. At this point, your bra is back on, but his eyes are actually on your face this time. “I literally helped you!”

“Helped me!?” You blanch, incredulous at his claim. “How the fuck did cockblocking me help me!? Everything was consensual!” He just sneers at this, poking a finger into your chest.

“Because you didn’t actually want it. You were just trying to prove a point, weren’t you?” He snips back, and your mouth opens. Goddammit, he’s right… Partially. You had just done it as a ‘fuck you’ to him, with how rude and openly he was complaining about Ryan, but… He was also hot, and it was just a casual fling. What was so bad about that? “Oh, come on, don’t tell me that walking snooze-fest actually was a turn on for you.” He scoffs, and you just shut your mouth. You feel your cheeks burning, and look away, feeling too embarrassed to have this discussion.

“W-We’re not talking about this!” You finally stutter out, and he makes an incredulous noise as you turn to leave. He just grips your arm again, though, pulling you back towards him.

“No. Fucking. Chance.” He grits his teeth, hand reaching down to pop the button on your jeans. You squeal out, trying to writhe out of his grasp, but stop with a gasp as you feel his fingers push right past your panties and slide between your folds. A squeak leaves you, thankfully, instead of a moan that wants to come out. You’re still aching, afterall, even after getting upset with this whole ordeal. Adam brings his fingers out, looking over the slick that thickly covers his gloves, and a sneer appears on his face. “Un-fucking-believable that guy got you this worked up.” He snips, glaring at you and your flustered features. That sneer quickly winds into a smirk, though, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth.

“Don’t–” You try to take control, but can only bite your lip as you watch his golden tongue poke out and drag the two digits covered in your slick down it, before he sucks on them. “Oh my God!” You whine, finally pulling yourself free as you turn away, hands covering your face.

“Good girls don’t go to Heaven when they use the Father’s name in vain.” His hands are on your shoulders, his head craning near your neck. You feel his breath hot on you, and a shudder runs down your spine as you try to suppress whatever primal urge is inside of you that wants you to turn around and beg Adam to shove his fingers back down your pants again.

“I– I’m going to bed– Alone!” You finally manage to work out of your mouth, shrugging away from him, rubbing your arms as you try to stem the heat flaring through your body. He doesn’t give follow, and just scoffs once more.

“Really? You just gonna go to sleep blueballed?” You hear him huff. “Dickmaster right here, remember!”

“Fuck you!” You snarl back, the events of tonight playing out in your mind once more, making you terse and aggravated. You turn around once you’re in your room, ready to slam the door, and he’s just standing there, eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

“Yeah, sure, I’m right here.” He grins, and you snarl in frustration, slamming the door. “Your loss, bitch! Have fun with your hand!” You hear him bark, and you can only assume he’s gone, as you don’t hear anything else outside your room. With a groan, you walk over to your bed, flopping onto it. You rub your hands across your face, grimacing as you see some of your makeup come off in the process. Tonight had been a clusterfuck, to say the least, and you feel on the verge of tears from it all. Part of you wants to cry, but you do your best to suppress the urge, biting the inside of your cheek.

“‘Have fun with your hand’.” You find yourself scoffing out his words, glaring up at the ceiling, before you promptly flick it off. “Fuck you, pervy asshole. Bet you would like me to do that so you can watch like some fucking weirdo.” You don’t even know if he can hear you, but you can only hope so. Or maybe not. How desperate are you to get a jab in, after all? You just groan out, getting up. You clean the makeup off your face, and change into night clothes as you crawl back into bed. The first thing you do is go to the app you met Ryan on and unmatch, because you are far too embarrassed about this situation to want to see him again.

…And, Adam was right. Ryan was really boring.

#reader insert #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #you #hazbin hotel adam #reader

58 notes · View notes

therealjordan23 · 2 months

Text

gwiles shitpost

ooo

The first thing Gwen had to do was tell Miles, and from some of the stories she had heard from other women, it was always one of the challenging parts. It wasn't supposed to be scary or difficult, but ever since the doctor confirmed her suspicions two weeks ago, anytime she tried telling Miles, she found the words die in her throat every time she opened her mouth. At this point, he must've been under the assumption that she had developed some form of memory loss.

The first night they were married, they had spent the night curled up in bed in Miles’ dimension. Too much had happened in too little time; they simply slept, wrapped up together all night. The next morning, Gwen woke up with her arm resting lightly against his bare chest, and she felt his steady heartbeat underneath her palm. She was relieved to find out that it wasn't a dream, and she had indeed gotten married to the man of her dreams.

When he finally woke up an hour later, she kissed him with every ounce of passion she could muster, and they had truly become husband and wife in that one final threshold.

And now 4 months into the marriage, she was 2 months pregnant.

“Not that I don't like spending time with you," Hobie said thoughtfully. "But it's also dawn, Gwen. I thought you’d be asleep."

Gwen had woken up early that morning, before the sun had begun to rise. She detangled herself from Miles' loving embrace, and pulled the covers up to his chin upon seeing goosebumps rise steadily on his chest from being exposed to the cold air. She kissed his forehead and silently dressed herself. Sneaking out, she headed to Hobie’s dimension where she knew he’d just be coming back home after a night of partying. True enough, she had found him, and together, they were taking a morning walk.

"I needed to talk to you where other people wouldn't listen," Gwen insisted, sitting down on a tree trunk. "It's a secret."

"And Miles isn't in on this because…?"

"That's the problem."

She looked down at her hands and watched them shuffle and fidget. She'd been elated when she thought she might be pregnant, but she had to keep her excitement in check until she was sure. As soon as the doctor confirmed her suspicions, she took sudden permission from the universe to be as excited as possible. Truthfully she wasn't exactly sure if she and Miles were able to have children considering that they were from different universes. It was something they had accepted and talked about before tying the knot, and she was ecstatic to learn that yes, they were able to conceive children. Gwen wondered immediately if it would be a baby boy or girl, whether they would have a son or a daughter. She hoped the baby had her eyes and Miles' hair, and as much as she relished saying Gwen Stacy-Morales to herself often, she was even more excited that her children would share the same last name. Miles was the father of her children and she was the mother of his.

She wanted to communicate all of this to Miles, but she never found the words.

"Talk Gwendy, what's wrong?" Hobie asked, taking a seat on the ground next to her.

"I'm pregnant."

Why was it so easy to tell Hobie and not Miles? Well, perhaps because Hobie had little stake in it other than being the fun uncle. She and Hobie would not be forever bound by this life that they both created and shared.

That didn't stop him from turning pale and his eyes went wide. Gwen groaned.

"I don't know how to tell Miles, and you're freaking out, which means he'll definitely freak out, and it shouldn't be this hard! And at this point, he won't find out until I actually have the baby, and just say, 'Hi, this is yours', and, oof—!"

She was cut off by a very sudden and very tight hug. After a moment Hobie jumped back though.

"Sorry, I don't want to hurt you, love," he said, eyes darting to her still flat stomach and laughing nervously. "Congratulations Gwen! I’m so happy!"

Gwen smiled at that, and relaxed for the first time in days. "Really?" she asked.

Hobie looked at her in disbelief. "Are you daft? What do you mean 'really'? Of course, Gwen! Miles is basically my brother, you're like my sister!"

"I'm just nervous."

Hobie moved to kneel in front of her. "About what?"

"About what? About everything! Miles will lose his mind—"

"Why?" Hobie challenged.

She fumbled for an answer. "B-because he's going to be a father! His entire world is going to change, and suddenly, we're going to have a baby to take care of—"

"Gwen."

Hobie took her hands gently but with purpose. When she refused to look up, he put a few fingers beneath her chin and tilted her up until her eyes met his. And then he smiled the warmest smile he had ever shown her.

"No one is going to make better parents than you and Miles," he said very plainly. "Miles was born to be a father, and despite not knowing if he could, he's always wanted kids. And you've always been such a kind, gentle, nurturing person. And even better, you two are in love. That's rarer than it should be when it comes to parents. Hell, I wish my parents weren't separated, but here we are, Gwen. Love between parents is rare to come across these days. I know you'll both love that baby with all your heart because you love each other."

It was surprising how deep Hobie could be, and he had a point. She had been elated in the first seconds of knowing she'd be a mother, because she knew that they were doing this together. That's what a baby was: two lovers coming together to create an entire universe made up of stars from his eyes, planets from her hair, comets from their skin.

"Tell him Gwen. I mean right now when you get home. If you don't, I can't guarantee I can keep quiet for long," he laughed.

She smiled, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, gave his hair a stroke, and stood, opening a portal back to Earth-1610. Hobie gave her one last hug as she walked through the portal to the front door of their home. Gwen entered just as quietly as she'd left.

The house was still dark. In the bedroom Miles had moved, turning onto his side with his hands bunched beneath the blanket. He was still heavily asleep, his breathing very deep. Gwen took a deep breath. She kneeled in front of him and gently brushed her hands through his hair. It was always soft and thick and curly. She studied his features intently: he had grown up a lot from their teenage days. Miles grew to be around 6’2 while she stayed 5’10, keeping his hair relatively the same. He had a light stubble, and was a lot more filled out and lean.He began to stir slightly at the touches, his eyes slowly creaking open. She leaned forward and kissed him until his eyes opened completely and he kissed her back lightly.

"Are you awake?" she said.

"Hmfph," he gave as a response, his voice thick, blinking rapidly.

She fought back a laugh. "Are you really awake? It's important," she said.

Miles pulled a hand up to his eyes and roughly rubbed the sleep out of them before pinching at the bridge of his nose. He sat up, the blanket falling down and exposing his skin to the chilly morning air and he shivered. He gave his hair a once through with his own hand before turning to Gwen with clearer eyes.

"Sí, mi amor, I'm awake," he said, yawning. "Are you alright?"

She took a deep breath through the nose, and told herself when she exhaled out would also come the news about the baby.

"I'm pregnant, Miles," she said.

He looked at first like he'd misunderstood her. Then his jaw fell open. His eyes looked down with such concentration she thought he might have been reading an invisible book.

But when Miles' eyes finally snapped back to Gwen, he smiled and his eyes were like fireworks. In one fluid motion he grabbed and pulled her in and rolled over. He tightly hugged Gwen who hugged him back. The anxious weight on her chest finally dissipated, and a garden of flowers replaced it. She told Miles, and it felt amazing.

He was whispering words of adoration in her ear while she just pulled at him tighter and relished the smell and feel of skin.

"I love you, Gwen," he said plainly and quietly.

"I love you too," she returned.

They spent half the day in bed, talking about names, taking bets on whose hair and eyes it would have. Miles insisted it would be the best Spider person; Gwen said she didn't care as long as they were happy and didn't set foot in an abandoned subway tunnel. He brought her food on a tray, insisted they'd buy all new food immediately, fresh food, he'd bring it to her whenever she needed. She laughed and told him it would be months before she'd truly need that.

It had been the best day of Gwen's life, but she knew there could only be one day that could outdo it.

But she'd have to wait 9 months.

#miles morales #gwen stacy #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #gwiles #miles x gwen #gwen x miles #spider gwen #spiderman #ghostflower #hobie brown

64 notes · View notes

cyberphuck · 2 months

Text

ROYAL ASSASSIN ABRIDGED: PART ONE My friend Razz wants to understand my shitposting about Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy, but they don’t want to actually have to read the books, so I’m summarizing it for them (and you)! When we last left Fitzy-Fitz, it was a really fucking long time ago, sorry, I stopped going to church and learned to chainsmoke (and this book is LONG, I mean it’s LOOOOOOONG, so I kept avoiding getting started on Abridging it, lmao). You can brush up on the frankly insane amount of different characters here at the Royal Assassin Cast of Characters post, or find the links to the rest of the Farseer Trilogy Abridged series here at this link here.

- Fitz awakens one fine October morning in a bed at Jhaampe hospital, where he's been recovering from being poisoned and poisoned and bludgeoned and kicked and drowned. At first he was having eighty seizures a day, but now that it's down to only twenty-five seizures a day, he and Burrich figure it's high time for the two of them to skedaddle before they get snowed in.

Then, exactly like that scene in Attack on Titan where Eren reaches for a spoon and accidentally turns into a Titan, Fitz drops a spoon and accidentally turns into a seizure. It's a lot less cool. He wakes up hours later back in the same damn hospital bed with Jonqui the King's Sister and now healer sitting beside him.

"This sucks," he whines.

"Time heals all wounds, Pull-Out Fail," Jonqui says sagely.

"Shut the fuck up. I'm fifteen and obviously know a lot more than you about healing, and I've decided I'm never going to get better."

Burrich strides healthily into the room with a swanky new skunk stripe in his hair where his skull was recently cracked open. "What-ho, Lil Accident, are you ready to go back to Buckkeep?"

"No. Everybody's gonna make fun of me. You go back without me."

"So long as you wear that collar," Burrich says solemnly, "I must follow you."

Fitz touches the black collar with the word DADDY on it in gold letters. "The way you followed my father?"

"Yes."

"Was it like, a sex thing?"

Burrich, who has enough hidden piercings to set off a metal detector at twenty paces, asks, "Are we going back to Buckkeep or what? I'm getting kind of bored sitting here watching you do the Harlem Shake."

"Also, I heard that Molly's candle shop was foreclosed on and she had to go live with relatives in a town that's about to be raided by Vikings," The Fool says from under the bed.

"Gosh, I wish I could talk to King Shrewd or the Fool or find out what's happening to Molly," Fitz sighs, then sits up as the room fills with the wavy lines and harp glissando of a dream sequence.

"Wake up, King Shrewd," the Fool says. He's sitting on a chair, not under the bed or in a hay bale for once, and Fitz finds it extremely disturbing.

"Fool? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, King Shrewd and not Fitz, I have to be here because you're sick and old," the Fool fools. "Here, let me fluff your pillows and feed you soup."

"This is so weird," Shrewd-Fitz says. "I feel like... oh, the Skill line is ringing. What? Vikings are viking Siltbay so late in the fall?"

"You know, it's creepy when you talk to yourself like that," the Fool mutters.

But Shitz (Shrewd-Fitz) is already on a Skill video call, watching the Red-Ship Raiders pulling up onto the coast. Vikings run through the town, viking everything in sight. The raiders are wading through blood up to their knees, people are running around headless and on fire, it's awful. The raiders aren't even stealing anything-- they're just wrecking stuff, which anyone who's been to a Raiders game can attest to (go Cowboys).

"Fool," Shitz says. "You can see the future, right?"

"This is a weird time to reveal that particular nugget of information, but sure. Let's see... ah, yes. I see a bard who can't fucking read the room trying to find a rhyme for 'dismembered child.' That is not something Jaydee made up, it's a real line from the book."

"Thank you, Fool, that's extremely fucked up," Shitz says. "Oh wait, who's this on the video call... It's Molly! Oh SHIT, it's Molly and Vikings are going to vike her!"

But Molly wasn't called Molly Nosebleed as a kid because she's a trembling little violet. A Viking tries to vike her and she stabs him to death, whirls around and shouts "WHO WANTS SOME, MOTHERFUCKERS?!"

Then a house falls on her.

"Oh god, oh fuck," Shitz says, panicking. "Fool, use your future vision and tell me if Molly's okay!"

"A bunch of women died in a bunch of horrible ways," the Fool says. "Do you want me to list them?"

"No," Shitz says, and so the Fool doesn't spend two pages describing the graphic sexual assault, murder, and maiming of a bunch of townsfolk. Shitz sits back in his bed. "Run off and let Verity know Siltbay is being viked."

Ever loyal, the Fool cartwheels down the stairs. Then Shitz sighs and says, "Man, being old sucks."

"Yes it does, so quit your fucking whining about your little seizures and come home," Shrewd says, and ends the Skill call.

The next morning, Fitz-Fitz packs up his stuff and heads out with Burrich and Hands to make the long boring trip back to Buckkeep.

The return to Buckkeep sucks especially hard because they have to take the 99 instead of the I-5 like last time, and Fitz is getting carsick. Along the way they keep having to stay in incredibly sketch Super 8s, which wouldn't be that bad (free soap and free weird smells!) but Burrich and Hands overhear someone standing out in the hallway talking loudly on their phone about how much King Shrewd fucking sucks.

"Yeah he keeps raising taxes to 'defend our country' or whatever but Vikings are still viking the beach towns as much as they want," had said the Buckboi in the hallway. "You know who rules, though, Prince Regal!"

"What towns did Buckboi say were viked?" Fitz asks.

"A town no one cares about," Hands answers solemnly, "and the one where Molly had a house fall on her."

After that incident, Burrich decides that they're gonna make the rest of the trip using surface streets and driving through people's yards. "If Regal finds out you're out here, he'll send someone to kill you," Burrich explains. "Verity's definitely not gonna protect you."

"Is that because he consistently sees me as a tool first and a family member and human being second?"

"Look," Hands interrupts. "I see Buckkeep-shaped lights in the distance." They ride up to the gates, which are guarded by a kid who was born a thousand years too early to be the squeaky-voiced teen working at the drive-thru. “Halt,” he squeaks. “Who the fuck are you?“

Burrich scoffs. ”Who the fuck are YOU?“

”I asked you first!“

”I asked you sec—“

”All right, all right, who's holding up the line?“ The last book had a rich and exhausting cast of random extras murmuring in the background, but this one used all of their budget on talking CGI wolves, so they had to fire most of them and give almost all of their lines to Blade, The Guard Captain. His job is to appear at important moments and say things like 'hear, hear!' and 'how big WAS she?' “Holy shit, it's Burrich! Twitter said you and Chivalry's Post Nut Regret were dead!”

“It's called X now,” Fitz says, emerging dramatically from the shadows.

“Oh.” Blade says, while four of the other guards die of secondhand embarrassment. “H-hi, Chivalry's Pos... I mean... Fitz. You uh. Did you have a nice trip? Hey, you... did something with your hair, it looks... it looks good!”

“Prince Regal was going around telling everyone I was dead, wasn't he,” Fitz says flatly.

“Sometimes I can still hear his voice,“ Regal sighs from somewhere in the castle.

”What? No. What?? No! What?! No!“ Blade laughs as six more guards thud to the ground. ”No, of course not! It was just, you know, like, you know. YOU know. You know. I didn't really believe you were dead, I did retweet the link Regal posted but I commented with 'big if true,' so it wasn't really...”

Fitz smiles. “Ho ho ho, Captain, don't worry your sweet little tits about it. Everyone falls victim to misinformation from time to time, and I accept the apology I assume you were about to provide me. Do carry about your business.”

Halfway up to the stables, Burrich pulls Fitz aside. “Listen, Lil Accident, we're not at Grandma's house anymore,” he hisses. “You can't talk to people like you matter or Regal's gonna get his panties in a knot about it.”

“And then he'll choke me,” Fitz agrees.

“What?”

“With his knotted up panties.“

”I'm also still alive,“ Hands offers after a long silence. ”Fitz, you're too weak and pathetic to wax your own horse, let me do it.“

”But...“

”Come on, Fitz, let Hands, my new favorite child, take care of the important work.“ Burrich takes Fitz's arm. ”Now go on up to the castle, that collar is making everybody question their sexuality.“

”What's a sexuality?“ Fitz asks, just before he's shoved into the castle, screen door banging behind him.

Inside, Fitz looks around and notices that the place looks cleaner than it had before he'd left on the world's worst road trip. All the beer cans and ash trays have been cleaned up, someone's taken down the band posters and put up tasteful watercolors of succulents, and the 'NICE COCK' that had been scrawled above the toilet has been replaced with 'live laugh love.'

”Wrow,“ muses Fitz as he passes a sign on Verity's door that reads 'IF THE WARSHIP'S A-ROCKIN', DON'T COME A-KNOCKIN'. ”I'm kinda gonna miss the crusty sock smell. Good thing my room still reeks like teenaged boy.“

#rote #robin hobb #fitzchivalry farseer #ra abridged #this one's a little rough but I promise I'll warm up

44 notes · View notes

magpod-confessions · 16 days

Note

I was a part of the group of TMA roleplayers from GETTR (Trump's knockoff Twitter; not X, I will never call it X). I will admit it was really fun, and roleplaying on Facebook was more immersive than Gettr. The amount of shitposts I have from it (Martin making a "your mom" joke towards Jon, the homophobic vase getting married to monopoly man Simon Fairchild, the monster pig having a birthday party or something, the many one-off character accounts—I'm pretty sure there was a beetle wife account—Gaslight Village, Daisy the furry, the cursed bed series, and the fact that there were over 100 people in the group. Not to mention the marriages; some were between entities.) I left before the strongest few stopped. But the last I remember, it ended with one of the monopoly men getting divorced or undergoing a mental assessment in late 2022.

#...i understood absolutely nothing of this ask #magpod #tma #the magnus archives #magpod confession

22 notes · View notes

demonicbaby666 · 1 year

Text

Quality time

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Gif credit to @laurenxgerman

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, with mentions of smut

Words: 1.5k+

Warnings: brief fingering (r! receiving), otherwise just fluff

Summary: Fluffy fic where after not being able to spend some quality time with JJ in quite a long time, you both find yourselves in the kitchen bonding over some much-earned cooking. Mainly fluff and cute couple stuff. A shortish fic

A/n: I read @five-bi-five-mind/@scarlet-prentisss fic- breakfast -and it was just too hella cute so this is sorta inspired by it. Got the go ahead from the legend herself so hope you enjoy the fluff!

p.s. this post is to make up for all the shitposting I've been doing, oopsie.

You and JJ agreed some quality time was well overdue between the two of you. Henry was at Will’s and you and your girlfriend had the house to yourself. In the past few hours, you’d taken full advantage of being able to be as loud as you pleased.

As you both lay naked on your shared bed that afternoon she turned to you.

“Is this what you meant by quality time?” JJ said smirking which earned a small chuckle to escape your lips. You turned your body to face her and placed a small peck on her lips.

“I was thinking we’d use our hands for something else, like cooking or baking or learning a craft but I’m also very okay with this.”

A loud grumble came from your stomach at the mention of cooking causing JJ to burst out laughing. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you into her so your warm bodies were pressed against each other. You shivered at the feeling of her soft skin against yours, no matter how long you’d been together, the feeling still sent sparks through your whole body.

“Well seen as you worked up an appetite, I think some food is definitely needed.” She said peppering kisses all over your face. You squirmed trying to move away from the tickle of her warm soft lips, but she persevered, obviously infatuated with the giggles that were escaping your lips.

“JJ stop!” You said between giggles, she pulled back to scrunch up her face in fake annoyance before placing one last kiss on your cheek.

She got up and you drank up the view of your stunning naked girlfriend, it was physically impossible to remove your eyes from her as she made her way to the ensuite, swaying her hips a little knowing the effect it had on you.

“Well, don’t you want to get clean first?” She said with a smug grin. You knew exactly how this was going to end, though you could never say no to her and with that you got up and worked up more of an appetite in the shower.

You sneakily watched JJ change sitting on the bed in a pair of shorts and jumper. Admiring her toned stomach as she puts on a sports bra and a pair of legging, finally throwing on a grey zip up hoodie. Even in casual clothes and her hair thrown up into a messy bun her beauty was unmatched.

When she turned and caught you staring a slight blush appeared on her cheeks. Pushing yourself off the bed and walking over to her, you place your hands on her shoulder after tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“You’re so beautiful Jayje.” Her crimson cheeks further reddened, her lips came crashing onto yours and her hands moved to wrap themselves around your waist. It was slow and playful, JJ nibbled at your bottom lip wanting to be let in which you happily allowed. Your tongues swirled around each other before retreating into your mouth. The kiss was short but filled with love and compassion.

When you pulled away the smile you were met with was heart-warming and only confirmed all the love you felt for JJ. Doe eyes stared directly into yours and held nothing but unfiltered, unconditional love only adding to the immense adoration gathering in your chest.

You took one of her hands from your waist and guided her downstairs to the kitchen.

“How does cupcakes sound?” you asked raiding the cupboards to search for all the needed ingredients, your back turned to JJ. She took the opportunity to snake her arm around your waist and reach for the flour you were struggling to grab from the top shelf.

She placed a small peck on your lips “Sounds perfect, but I’m going to take the lead. Don’t want a repeat of last time.” She joked.

You slightly cringed at the memory of JJ coming back from work to the smoke alarm going off whilst you were half asleep trying to scramble around the kitchen. She didn’t get mad, instead burst out laughing watching you trying to save the burnt cake you’d pulled out the oven. Though the laughter quickly subsided when she saw your sore blistered hands and rushed to help.

Holding your hands up to silently surrender you replied, “That’s probably a good idea.”

JJ giggled in response as she pulled you into her and placed her free hand behind your neck, “What am I going to do with you?”

You placed a finger to your chin as though you were deep in thought, “I’m sure I can think of a few things. But for now, let’s start with you not letting me burn my hands again.”

After getting all the ingredients out, you both worked in harmony to mix and pour everything into a bowl. After placing the batter in the cupcake moulds JJ refused to let you near the oven, banishing you to the other side of the room.

You watched as she crouched down. Looking down at your hands and back up to JJ you noticed how clean she was in comparison to you. You were covered in batter and flour and a devilish plan came to life. The oven door closed and along with the sound of the door slamming shut, a loud slapping sound rippled through the room.

JJ stood back up whipping around to look at you wide mouthed. You tried to hold yourself back from laughing as you saw realisation dawn on your girlfriend’s face. She looked behind her back to her now flour covered ass and audibly gasped, that’s when you knew you were in trouble.

“OH YOU DID NOT JUST-” anger boiled over JJ, her eyes wide but her lips betrayed her as she struggled to not smile. When she tried to grab you, you lunged back dodging her, which only added fuel to the fire.

Your eyes couldn’t keep up with what happened in the next few seconds, JJ put her agile training skills to good use, one hand reached into the bowl of batter. In the same second, she leapt forwards trapping you with her free strong arm, JJ smeared the gloopy sticky batter on your cheek.

“You monster!” you whispered with furrowed brows.

You wriggled free and made an effort to grab the flour on the counter, JJ pulled you back and your whole body crashed into her. What she didn’t know was that you’d managed to get some extra flour on your hands so when she turned you around you cackled and squished her face between your flour covered hands triumphantly.

The largest grin you’d ever seen crept onto JJ’s face and both of you held each other as you uncontrollably howled with laugher. This was home, moments like these were when you knew you’d found the one person you wanted to spend your life with. JJ’s work made moments like this sparse but when they came, they only reaffirmed it was all worth it. All the work you two put in was so you could have these snapshot memories you knew you’d tressure forever.

She held on to you tighter than before, her eyes darted from your eyes and lips. In one swift move she brought her lips closer to yours, as you shut your eyes you didn’t feel her lips press against your own, instead you felt her tongue on your cheek slowly licking the batter off. Your breath hitched in your throat. In an attempt to contain a moan from passing your lips you bit hard on your bottom lip.

When JJ’s tongue makes its way down to you neck you lose all self-control, letting out a small whimper as she nibbled on your sweet spot. You could feel JJ smirking against your neck, and she started backing up towards the longue.

“JJ, we can’t.” it didn’t come out as strong willed as you wanted it to, because God knows you wanted to give into her, but the thought of the whole house burning down because you wanted a quickie with your girlfriend was not a pleasant one.

“We have 15 minutes, and I don’t want to waste a single one of them.” She mumbled against your neck, pulling you both closer and closer to the couch. After all the sex earlier, you were sure JJ would be more than satisfied, but it seemed your girlfriend had an incessant appetite that cupcakes just wouldn’t fill, and who were you to deprive her. The decision was made for you as she pushed you down onto the sofa straddling you.

“How are you not tired?” You half moaned out as JJ continued to nibble and kiss down your neck to your chest pulling your jumper over your head.

“How could I ever get tired of you.”

And with that JJ didn’t waste another second, ripping off your shorts and getting to work, again and again, until the timer went off and it was time to feast on well-deserved cupcakes.

When JJ took a bite out of the cupcake, she looked directly at you. With a small grin on her soft pink lips she stated with certainty, “You taste better.”

Click here to be added to my tag list

253 notes · View notes

tessservopoulos-real-wife · 8 months

Note

Y/n + Tess obviously have some tension most of the time, but both are way too stubborn to give in so joel has to be the one that pushes both of them.

Jealous, Jealous, Jealous Girl

Honestly, not even proof read, im shitposting this at 2am.

Word Count:1780 \\ Written for Anna and Leah <3

Mentions of alcohol, allusions to smut at the end if you squint, possessive and jealous tess.

<3 enjoy

The wardrobe door rattled as it was forcibly closed as Tess haphazardly threw several outfits onto her unmade bed. Why must Joel and Y/N drag her to this party when clearly, she does not want to go? She could think of hundreds of things she would rather do with her evening. She would rather face a room full of clickers than see that woman who had been clouding her mind for the past few years. Tess's heart raced as she imagined the awkward encounters and forced conversations that awaited her at the party. The mere thought of seeing that woman made her stomach churn with a mix of anxiety and unresolved emotions.

With a sigh, she threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt which swooped at the neckline, showing just the right amount of skin and zipped up her heeled boots before opening the bedroom door, starting straight for the kitchen with the intention of drinking her sorrows away before getting to the party. Who cares if she’s slightly late? It isn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Tess felt her body and nerves relax as the scotch liquor touched her lips, every thought left her mind other than the taste of a good scotch, she would have to thank Bill for this one. As she took a sip, Tess couldn't help but reminisce about the countless conversations and laughter she had shared with Bill over the years. His impeccable taste in scotch always managed to bring her comfort in times of distress. Still, she knew that she would have to leave the quiet of her apartment and engage once more with the disgusting world around her. Tess sighed, feeling a sense of reluctance to face the reality outside her safe haven. However, she couldn't deny that the warmth of the scotch coursing through her veins gave her a newfound strength to confront whatever awaited her beyond those walls. With a determined resolve, she set down her glass and prepared herself to step back into the chaos of life.

As she arrived at the party (only one hour late, Joel would definitely be proud of that!), she automatically scanned the crowd for her friends. She spotted them huddled together near the bar, Joel, as ever, nursing a drink of scotch of his own. Taking a deep breath, she made her way towards them, face stoic and expressionless which was a stark contrast to how she was feeling at the mere sight of the younger woman.

“Joel. Y/n” she spoke without a glance at either, instead eagerly making eye contact with the bartender, needing liquid luck once more as she missed the way that Y/N’s eyes drifted down her body as she gulped the remainder of her own drink. As Tess’ drink arrived, she turned around, back leaning against the bar as she rolled her head to remove the tension building in her neck. However, she did not miss the gaze that Y/N gave her this time. “Something up? You're both awfully quiet, how nauseating.”

Y/n shifted in her seat uncomfortably, swirling the remainder of her drink within her glass before drinking it, “Everything is just peachy, need another drink to deal with this hell hole. Remind me why we keep coming to these parties even when they bore us so terribly?” Y/n spoke nervously turning to eye the room herself. The three laughed as Joel rolled his eyes.

“Keep ‘em coming Phil,” Joel announced to the bartender, earning a small cheer from the two women beside him. “Well. If you can’t beat them, we can certainly outdrink them!”

“Touche” Tess chirped in response, nudging Y/N teasingly which only caused the younger woman to blush even more.

Y/N's blush deepened as she took another sip of her drink, trying to find some liquid courage to combat her nerves. "So, which of you fuckers are going to dance with me? Might as well, might be the last one in a while, did you hear the rumours about Maria's lot wanting to leave to chase that lead from a few months back? Figured it was right up our alley?" Y/N's bold statement caught the attention of their small group. Tess and Joel exchanged glances, intrigued by Y/N's mention of Maria's lot and the lead they were chasing.

"Sounds promising but count me out of the dancing, These old bones are not what they used to be" Joel muttered, accepting their drinks. Y/N gained a simple grunt in answer from Tess and so she shrugged, taking off to the dancefloor by herself `after accepting her own drink.

Around an hour had passed since the older two had left Y/n alone to dance, Tess’ was clearly becoming more and more sour with each passing moment. Each glance, each touch that was rewarded to you by both men and women was not missed by the brunette- and boy, was she getting angry. She ignored the simmer within her stomach at seeing your reaction to some of the advances from other women. Of course, she would never admit to any feelings at all about you. That would be a weakness, and Tess Servopoulos is not about weaknesses. She was just simply annoyed at your lack of regard for danger. Yes. Definitely just that.

She took another rather large swig from her glass, her head fuzzy due to the copious amounts that had already been digested prior to this moment. She was almost glad for the invasion of her senses, as lately, the only thought clouding her mind was the sweet intoxicating presence of her. The world seemed to shrink as Maria came towards Y/n, the scene itself resembling more of a cat who got the cream, or rather a predator encircling their prey. Tess' hold on her glass tightened dangerously upon eyeing the way that Y/n's heavily intoxicated body leaned towards Maria just as you giggled, swaying slightly before Maria's hands found their way to your biceps. God. How fucking vulgar.

"You know in all the years I have known you, I have never ever seen Theresa Servopoulos so fuckin oblivious…" Joel all but grunted, "I suggest that you stop picturing them all dead, and I suggest you rather pick yourself the fuck up and take what you so clearly want before she is snatched up by the vultures." With that last statement, Joel threw a nod towards the scene of Maria and Y/N slowly dancing to the music.

Something within Tess snapped, her feet moving quicker than her mind, an invisible string becoming taut, pulling her dangerously in close to the drowning orbit of Y/N.

"MOVE. Before I swear to the fucking gods that I will tear you apart and leave you to the fucking clickers. Back. Of. She's. MINE!" With that last word, the brunette shoved her finger right into Maria's chest, pushing her back a few inches.

"Tess what the f-" Y/N's protests fell short, Tess' dominating hold on her wrist pulling her from the dancefloor and towards the door. Joel watched the scene unfold with just a smirk on his face, taking his winnings from the bartender who had just fallen short of his bet.

The cold air worked wonders on sobering the two women up slightly, Tess spinning Y/n to face her immediately upon exiting the building now behind them. "Tess. What the fuck was that-"

"Shut the fuck up right now. You don't get to ask the questions. What the fuck was that with Maria? Some kind of scheme? What the fuck is your deal with that bitch?!" Tess barked back, venom laced throughout her tone whilst her eyes bore straight into those of Y/n's, effectively pinning her in place without the need for restraint. "Who. The. Fuck. Do you think you are!?" As Tess punctuated each word, she took a step towards the woman in front of her, The last part of the sentence rushed breathlessly due to the sudden close proximity. Y/N swore that she could feel Tess' warm breath against her face, she wondered if the taller woman could hear her blood rushing through her body.

Every thought left Y/n's mind but one.

"You're jealous…"

"Fuck you. Why would I be jealous of you?"

"No. You're not listening I-"

"I mean, swanning around here, flaunting yourself around acting like you're hot shit i'"

"You're jealous of Maria. You're jealous that I entertained someone else for the evening. You want me to be your plaything. You never cared this much about me before. You have practically ignored my existence this past few weeks so, why now?" Tears began to form in Y/n's eyes before she continued, "Did I ever really matter to you?"

Words evaded the older woman. Fuck. She always finds a way to fuck things up, doesn't she?

"Shit. Of course, you fucking matter. Stop this-"

"No. You always do this. You always shut down, shut me out. You can't keep doing this to me Tessa I…" The words died out slightly at the mention of her petname, " You know what, I should go" Y/n began to move, tears spilling over the brim of her eyelids as she wiped them away quickly.

After a beat of silence, a small noise above a whisper stopped the woman in her tracks. Once more, the noise was made again, this time resembling a murmur of three simple words, “Don’t go. stay. Please." Tess caught the younger woman's wrist with her cold hands, pulling the other person to face her. A surprised squeak left Y/n as Tess connected their lips together with a bruising, intoxicating kiss. Within seconds, she was kissing her back as if their survival depended on it and as Tess pushed Y/n against the wall, she took the opportunity to deepen their kiss, fingers fisting and creasing the smaller woman's shirt at her hips. When breathing became a necessity once more, they pulled apart, Tess' ministrations were instead focused on eliciting a small grunt resembling a moan as she bit down the flesh just above where her shirt sat. "Fuck. You have no idea how long I have waited to fucking do that. No. Fucking. Idea." In the latter part of her sentence, she instead poured her emotion into placing peppered kisses on Y/n's face.

Two hours later, the couple reemerged into the dying party, hair slightly messed, lips puffy, bruises adorning both of their necks and a shit-eating grin on Y/N's face as she locked her arms around her newly qualified girlfriend's waist.

#tlou #tess servopoulos #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #theresaservopolous #tess tlou #tess servopoulos x reader

28 notes · View notes

synthetictorii · 7 months

Text

We Don't Sleep At Night ✧ Hitoshi Shinso

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso x reader Genre: fluff Summary: You can't sleep and neither can your friend. Your nightly walk takes a turn that changes your relationship. Word count: 5.1k A/N: ...obligatory old and cringey fic ahead warning...

You tossed and turned in your bed, blanket long discarded on the floor. Your window was opened wide, letting the fresh air and noise from the street below into your room. You were currently counting stars, before that you counted all windows you could see, imagined yourself jumping from one roof to another and briefly wondered if it was possible to go insane with boredom. Nothing felt satisfying, no stupid mobile game could entertain you neither could songs, funny vine compilations or fanfictions. Was this how psychopaths are made? You tugged at your hair and rubbed your face roughly. You felt your sanity slowly slipping through your fingers. Maybe you should at least wave it goodbye.

That’s when your phone buzzed on the floor where you had threw it after you found out that it didn’t contain magical solution to your insomnia. Well, doesn’t matter, you can keep your sanity for a while longer you decided. With a sigh you rolled over and reached to the floor, grabbing your phone. Green light flickered on top of it signalling an unread message. You smirked contently, already guessing who the one texting you would be. The screen lit up after you pushed the button and sure enough, there it was – a message. You opened it with bated breath.

From: Frickin’ Savior

Text: You up?

Your grin only got wider. No one but you would know who the text was from, which was exactly the purpose of the nickname. Nobody would guess that the savior in this case was Shinsō Hitoshi, the mysterious boy from general studies who never spoke to anyone. Or at least that was how it seemed. And it was super important to keep it that way. Well, to him at least. You wouldn’t actually mind if others knew about your friendship. Though it sure was more romantic like this; like a forbidden romance bloomed between you or something. This part was actually a secret to Hitoshi too. But shhhh, he mustn’t know.

To: Frickin’ Savior

Text: Very much! I’m about to claw my eyes out! What are you up to?!

Your fingers speeded across the keyboard and hit send. It was a little routine of yours – if one of you couldn’t fall asleep, and it happened more often than could be considered healthy, you’d text the other to see if they were up as well and then something happen. Something also meaning potentially nothing in case that the other was asleep somehow. But it also could mean night adventure, phone call led in whisper so you wouldn’t wake your parents or sending each other shitposts or random thoughts you had. You treasured every single one of those sessions you had over the last six months. If it wasn’t for him, you’d probably have jumped out the window long time ago just to stop the never ending cycle of exhaustion and staring into the ceiling. If you wake up at a different time in a different place, could you wake up as a different person? You remembered the famous Fight Club quote. Yeah, one night you and Hitoshi watched Fight Club together – each in your own home and room but facetiming the whole time. It was super romantic. Your phone buzzed again.

From: Frickin’ Savior

Text: Brown in five.

You clenched the phone in your hands, grinning like a maniac. You jumped from your bed and took your night attire off, changing into your most beloved pair of jeans with holes that looked like wild animal tore them and [f/c] t-shirt with graffiti pattern on it. It was summer and nights were hot enough to wear just this. You quietly sneaked out of your room and took your favourite pair of shoes and your keys. Then you went back to your room again and put on the shoes. You climbed to the tree right next to your window and then down. Your parents absolutely mustn’t know that you sneaked out again. At least not until you left the house. Then they couldn’t do much but scold you again when you returned. So now you were safe. You let out a content sigh and ran excitedly to the meeting point. It was a small fountain in the middle of crossroad, not much far from your house neither the U.A. dorms he lived in, with a sculpture of demon and angel fighting in the middle. You once said that it reminded you of Dan Brown’s novel Angles & Demons and the name Brown just stuck with it. You were lucky to find another bookworm and befriend him, although your friendship was a secret.

It wasn’t that Hitoshi or you would be ashamed of the relation but your relative classes, him being in 1-C and you in 1-D, were cruel to you as it was since you both had a quirk that would be perfect for a villain or so they said. Your quirk was The Lie, you could tell a lie and the victim or victims would believe you whole-heartedly, the only catch being that something about your appearance would change slightly. The effect disappeared when someone pointed that little change out. And as was the case with Hitoshi’s quirk, it would also be a great quirk for a hero but wasn’t good enough against robots on the U.A. hero class exams. So this little agreement you had between each other was to protect yourselves from more teasing and bullying. That was actually how you two met in the first place.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was second or third week of school, late afternoon. You were just about to head home when two huge guys pinned you against the lockers, hand already covering your mouth – since “You don’t wanna do this” is also a lie. You were smart, no doubt about that, but not strong. It was fairly easy for them to shove you into janitor’s room. You put up a fight though, biting fingers of one of the boys hard, which got you nowhere but he made sure to leave nasty purple bruises on your arms in return. You didn’t have enough time to march back to the door and bang them when they swung open and unknown indigo haired boy made the same messy entrance as you a while ago, they pushed him backwards and slammed the door close. “We caught the bad guys, yeah!” One of the guys outside shouted. “Yeah! But aren’t we too nice to them, giving them seven minutes in heaven,” the whole group bursting into laughter. “Hey! Let us out!” The boy screamed back and kicked the door. But there was no response, only the laughter got quieter as the guys walked away. “Damnit,” he cursed and banged his head against the door. “It’s easier to bruise your arms y’know? It’d still match your hair,” you said while examining the marks on your own arms, startling the boy who didn’t notice your presence. “Ah, sorry, I thought you’d get the seven minutes reference,” you smirked at his surprised expression. He scoffed and scratched his nape. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you,” he looked away and sighed. “Think they’ll let us out?” He asked and sat down with his back leaning against the door. You simply shrugged. “Maybe?” With only about a meter separating you from him you got a clear view of his features, his sharp jawline and high cheekbones, purple eyes with dark bags under them. His hair created somewhat messy crown on his head. He was very attractive and whoever dared to say otherwise was lying.

He didn’t seem to be much of a talker, simply sitting on his spot and staring to the side. You however were bored and liked talking to people, especially if the person was a pretty boy. “So I guess you’re a villain of your class too?” You asked and his response was almost immediate. “Too?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Ah, you didn’t hear. I’m [l/n] [y/n], the main villain of the class 1-D, nice to meet you. Nobody would talk to me because I can make other believe anything I say and they’re too stupid to figure out how to see through it,” you made a little bow with a smile. “And you?” You tried, the boy looking away again. “Why would I tell you that? You lost a huge advantage by telling me that,” he murmured emotionlessly. “Well, I’m not going to use my ability on fellow student and villain, am I?” You shrugged again. The boy was silent for a while, then sighed. “Shinsō Hitoshi, 1-C, if you answer me I can force you to do anything,” he looked at you from the corner of his eyes. Your jaw dropped in awe. “That’s so cool!” You grinned and then you suddenly froze, unable to move your body. Your senses were intact though so you saw the illegally handsome smirk the boy’s lips curled into. And then everything returned to normal. “Well, that’s what I call a missed chance. You’re locked here with me away from everyone and this is all you do?” You teased, hoping to make the boy talk. Spoiler: it worked. He let out a breathy laugh. “Everyone is super wary to talk to me and you just say this? Are you stupid or what?” He seemed to be super socially awkward but you didn’t mind. After all you had all the time until someone let you out to teach him. “I just thought it was interesting decision for someone as bad as they think,” you gave him a small smile and there it was again, the inability to control your body. This time though he let you go quicker. “See! I bet deep down you’re a sweetheart,” you smiled cheerfully. “I’ll do it until you stay quiet,” he warned you with a hint of mischievous glint in his eyes. You decided that if it will bring out more emotions of him, it’s worth it. “I always have a lot to say, so good luck,” as the last word rolled off your tongue, your motion froze. “And what if I just leave you like this?” This time you counted the time until he let you go: 13 seconds. “Challenge accepted!” You beamed and made sure to make the most stupid face you could pull off – and it worked, you lost control just as you finished the masterpiece. His stoic face changed completely, he actually burst out laughing even if just for a second or two. Even after that there was a small hint of smile on his lips. 7 seconds. “What the hell was that?” He asked, chuckle escaping him. “I just thought that if you were to look at my frozen face I might as well make it worth it,” you explained with a happy grin and lost control. “Now I could actually handle looking at you,” he smirked. 15 seconds. “Are you calling me pretty?” You gasped.

“I still didn’t take back that ‘stupid’, so I’m calling you that.” 10 seconds. “Now that is really mean.” Pout.

“I’m a villain after all, ain’t I?” 20 seconds. “You almost scared me there.” Relieved breath.

“Almost?” 25 seconds. “You’d get bored without me so I figured you’d let me go eventually.” Grin.

“I prefer silence, so why should I get bored?” 40 seconds. “Because you must be really nice when you stop with this jerkish act and want someone to talk to you without fear.” Friendly smile.

“What if I really am not?” Full minute and thirty seconds. “Well, then I’d get to look at your handsome face so I’d still win.” Wink.

0 seconds.

You looked at him confusedly, little sad that your little playtime was over. The hint of pink on his cheeks and sheepish look full of doubt he shot you made up for it perfectly though so you didn’t mind. “That wasn’t a lie by the way, as you can see, nothing about me changed,” you finger gunned him with another wink. “So that’s your secret?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Please don’t tell anyone, I kinda enjoy them being afraid of me,” you were the one to look away this time. The count started. “Ha! I got ya!” He smirked and stretched. You cursed yourself mentally for not being able to see the movement of his muscles. “Now I have no reason to let you go, do I? Oh I forgot, you can’t talk.” He clicked his tongue. 32 seconds. “See, there’s a reason - you’d miss my voice! I don’t blame you, I know it’s highly addictive,” you sighed under the huge burden, making him roll his eyes. But he didn’t make you freeze. “Seriously, why shouldn’t I tell anyone? Give me one good reason,” he leaned his head on the door as well. “I’ll be your best friend if you don’t. And I’m really good at it!” He gave you amused look. “Hey, it’s true! You can call me anytime and I’ll pick up! If not, the insomnia probably got me and I’m dead, but that just happens,” you sighed dramatically. Something in his look changed though, most notably his direction, now away from you. “Well, insomnia buddy could be nice,” he muttered almost inaudibly. Your face beamed with happiness. “Then we have a deal!” You shouted excitedly and shifted closer to him, extending a hand for him to shake. Instead of taking it he looked at the bruises now dark purple in color. “They did this to you?” He frowned and made a move to touch your arm, stopping after realizing it would probably hurt you. “Yeah, I bit the guys hand so this is only fair, I guess?” You mused. “It looks painful, they didn’t left any mark on me and I fought back too,” his voice was monotone but it still seemed to you like he was concerned. “Not hard enough then,” you teased, getting an eye-roll again. That’s when the janitor finally came, not too happy to find two teenagers in his room.

After that it went pretty fast. You’d often chat throughout the night and when you came from school. He was the one who suggested that you save each other’s number under a nickname just in case that they’d take your phones. They changed a lot from then but were just as meaningful. The teasing continued, your classes shipping you and mocking you for it but it wasn’t anything that actually bothered you as you knew would be the case if they knew you actually talked to each other.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And now you were rushing to meet the boy again. Just one more turn and there he was. Sitting on the edge of fountain, looking up. He wore black tight jeans with dark violet shirt with blue stripes and black leather jacket. Handsome as always. At the sound of your footsteps he turned his head, some if his hairs falling to his face. Your heart skipped a beat as it often did in his presence. “Hey,” you smiled and rushed to him, giving him a friendly hug that you enjoyed more than you should have. He kept saying that he doesn’t like physical affection and people touching him in general but you soon noticed that when you touched or hugged him, he hesitated before pulling away. That was why you were already close to confessing your feelings about ten times. “Hey,” he offered a welcome as well. You could tell something was off already. His voice was never this soft unless something happened. “Tell me,” you said simply. It was comfortable knowing each other so well, not having to explain things. “I just,” he sighed and let his head fall, “I met some kids on the street and they followed me the whole way home and picked at me ‘cause of my quirk.” It didn’t happen quite as often now, the Sports Festival long in the past. It only hit Hitoshi more because of this fact. “I’m just afraid I’ll forever be known as the kid who’d be a perfect villain,” he shrugged and tried to laugh it off. You knew him well enough to know this was just a façade. “You don’t have to embarrassed,” you said gently, bumping your shoulder together as you sat next to him on the cold surface. You didn’t nag at him more about that though, your only intention being to remind him of that. “And you definitely don’t need to worry either, they’re just kids. Kids are mean,” you made a face, getting a weak chuckle from him. “Besides my parents will always remember you as ‘that purple bastard’ so don’t sweat it, not everyone will remember you like that.” Now he laughed in earnest. “Are they still mad?” You nodded with a shrug.

Why would parents be mad at the boy with whom their only child ran away in the middle of the night on basically weekly basis… you didn’t understand at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t come back – and if you didn’t, you at least sent them a message.

A comfortable silence enveloped you. Your mind was swirling with all kinds of thoughts, from boring ones about school, controversies you saw online, to fantasizing about what your first date with Hitoshi would be like. You were swinging your legs as you did. It was nice to just be together with him like this. He looked troubled but you didn’t say anything, knowing full well that he needed to think through whatever was worrying him. You didn’t mind. He was the only person you didn’t mind being quiet around. He seemed to appreciate that, in return trying to talk more than he usually would. “Quick! What was the last thing you thought about,” he asked suddenly. It was your favourite inside game. “I remembered the guy who had the Twin Towers with ‘Inside job’ tattooed on his back, it’s so tacky, you?” You answered with a grin, internally cringing at the memory. “That the blond guy from 1-B is freakin’ creepy.” He didn’t need to explain more, you knew exactly who was he talking about. “Yeah, I hate passing him in the hallway.” You shivered, that empty eyed look always gave you the creeps. “I mean, why does everyone hate on us? He’s the real evil,” you giggled, not noticing the little smile on Hitoshi’s lips.

You stretched and yawned, looking around. Your muscles were getting stiff from the sitting and it was such a beautiful night. “Wanna go for a walk? We haven’t done that in a while!” You suggested excitedly, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. To your surprise you didn’t get the usual eye-roll but a silent nod instead. If the laziest person you knew after Aizawa-sensei didn’t protest a walk, something was sure wrong. “Those kids got you bad, huh?” You smiled sadly letting go of the fabric. He simply looked away but it was enough for you. “I’m just tired of hearing it all the time, that’s all. And…,” he bit his lip – unbeknownst to him you’ve wanted to do just it since the day one – obviously pondering something. “Keep this to yourself, okay?” He sighed in the end and you nodded with a smile. You wondered if he could hear your heart trying to escape your ribcage. You always got all mushy inside when he opened up to you. “I’d really like to make good impression on kids, it really matters to me a lot,” he confessed quietly with a gentle smile you almost never saw. “But how am I supposed to do it if everyone only sees a villain in me?” He got bitter again, his precious gentle side disappearing. You laid your head on his shoulder, feeling him stiffen under you before relaxing. He was used to this level of skinship by now, you trained him well. You were the one who initiated it for the most part, but sometimes, when you were feeling down or he was in extremely good mood, he’d touch you on his own. It never failed to make your knees weak. For other’s it probably didn’t seem like much – a gentle brush of hands, a quick hug or leaning on someone. It was after all what all friends did, right? Not when it came to Hitoshi, and you knew it. That’s why it was so special to you. “You remember our seven minutes in heaven?” You asked, getting a confused look. “I didn’t think for a moment that you are a bad person, the thought that you may be evil never occurred to me,” you noticed him smile a bit from the corner of your eye. “Even when you had a control over my body for full freakin’ minute,” you pouted. He simply leaned his head to side to touch yours in response. You closed your eyes and carved the feeling into your brain. His hair were so soft they were like a pillow and nice warmth radiated from him. Combined with the smell of his cologne, it was a perfect attack on your ability to think straight.

“And,” the light bulb went off above your head as you straightened up, suddenly getting an idea what might help him, “look at the proof.” You raised a finger to signal him to wait as you fished around in your pocket for your phone. You unlocked it and showed him messages of your conversation with him. “See? There’s nothing like ‘Stain’s kin’,” you pointed to the nickname you had saved him under. Frickin’ Savior. “You’re really amazing, Hitoshi, it’s a shame that not many people know that.” You watched as his walls fell down, his expression soft. He looked at you with his beautiful purple eyes, stars reflecting in them and you swore it was the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. “So… yeah, don’t worry about it,” you let out a breathy chuckle. Your cheeks were pink after showing him the embarrassing nickname you gave him. But it did lift his mood so you’d survive. “May I ask for something?” His politeness took you by surprise, but still you nodded without a word. It was the first time he spoke to you like this. You tried to find the reason for the sudden change in his eyes but they were dark, as they after all always were if he was serious about something. His body language though wasn’t guarded like it usually was. He looked anxious, his hand would be trembling for sure if they were balled into fists on his knees. “Is it really okay?” He asked again, a hint of concern in his voice. Now that made you nervous. “Just tell me what it is.” You frowned. Well known feeling overtook you, creeping up your spine. You didn’t try to move, knowing that it would be to naught. “I-I’m really sorry that I do it this way, but I’d chicken out otherwise and I don’t want to hold back anymore,” he apologized, worrying his lower lip between his lip. Then he looked at you and took your breath away as well. There was no hint of the walls he built over the years, all of them down, those few he kept up even around you were no exception. And this unguarded face of his was riddled with fear and uncertainty, he was at his most vulnerable and you couldn’t move to protect him. “Kiss me,” he whispered so faintly you wouldn’t understand if you didn’t read his lips. Right then and there the hold of his quirk crashed.

But that didn’t matter. What did was that your heart officially outpaced the speed of light. Your lungs wouldn’t co-operate, every single muscle tense and ready for run-or-fight situations, brain pumping endorphins into your blood stream at neck-breaking pace. He wants you to kiss him. And he wants it bad enough to order you, as if he couldn’t take no for an answer. He said it himself, right? Your mind screamed in ecstasy. After all the months of surviving on strictly innocent touches, finally came a moment you were waiting for. You looked into his eyes now that you could move and it finally hit him. His face contorted in a grimace of pure horror. He shrieked a high pitched noise and took off, sprinting away.

But oh boy, were you not having any of this shit.

You chased him street after street, alley after another, finally pinning him against a wall of some shop. You were both breathless, yet he still tried to find a way to continue his escape. You stepped closer to him, invading his closest personal space, chests and noses only millimeters apart. “Let me go,” he pleaded quietly, avoiding your eyes. “No way,” you frowned before suddenly having to squat down overcome by a fit of coughs you always got after running for a long time. Only annoyed and angered this time by the opening it created for Hitoshi to run away. He however mimicked your pose instead and soothingly rubbed your back up and down. You smiled in between the coughs.

“Didn’t you want to run?” You asked when your body finally calmed down and sat on the sidewalk. “I still can I guess, but I don’t want to put you through that again, I know you hate it,” he said and shifted awkwardly. “Then why did you ran in the first place?” You gave him mean look he couldn’t see since he was still avoiding your gaze. “I didn’t think you’d ran after me.” He confessed and sat too, knees pulled to his chest. “Why wouldn’t I? Do you think I’d let the opportunity to kiss you slip from my grasp so easily?” You offered a gentle smile and nudged him with your elbow. He finally looked at you, still as vulnerable and scared, now shocked too. “W-w-what? You don’t have to do it, my quirk didn’t work!” He protested, turning away but you cupped his cheek, turning his face back to look at you. “It did, but did you forget when it turns off?” You chuckled a bit at his dumbfounded expression. “You know, back then, I was really shocked because,” you took in a deep breath, “because my crush of 3 months, 2 weeks and 6 days, whom I thought would never feel anything but friendship towards me, asked me to kiss him.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb, genuinely shy smile gracing your lips. You let him process it, watching his emotions shift and change. From surprise, to disbelief, to denial, to finally, acceptance. He smiled as well, beautifully sweet smile and eyes sparkling. His whole face lit up in an instant. “May I still kiss you?” You asked but the answer never came as a pair of soft, warm lips gently crashed and melted into yours in deep kiss. Your eyes shut instinctively. The feeling was impossible to describe, pure bliss was very weak expression. His hands found their way to your hair and back and pulled you closer. You hummed happily and put your arms on his shoulders, gently pulling on his hair. He moaned quietly into your mouth and it was the only sound you needed to ever remember and hear again and again.

Eventually though you had to pull away for oxygen, your forehead still resting against his. He looked at you sheepishly. “So… how was it?” He asked, unable to contain a smile. You leaned forward and captured his lips again, gently this time, a reassuring kiss. “Addictive,” you simply purred, your lips still touching. “Do you want more?” He smirked and you leaned in again but left him hanging, instead giving him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I do, but I also want a proper confession,” you whispered teasingly, pulling away to look at him. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I think I was pretty straightforward though,” he tried to pull you closer again but you resisted. You knew however that he wouldn’t budge, not like this. “Nah-ah, if you want it you better confess properly,” you tapped his lips with a finger and faked a yawn, “anyway, I’m getting pretty sleepy. But don’t worry I’ll wait for you.” You stretched and stood up, walking back to your home. It was hard to ignore him and don’t turn around when he called your name so sweetly but your stupid cheesy heart needed a proper love confession, stuttering, avoiding eye contact and everything.

You received some pretty sweet messages from your savior saying that he missed you, that he needed you to come back. It goes without saying that you didn’t sleep a bit, your heart racing with every new text. You always responded along the lines “If you want it, come and get it” but he never did. You knew he wouldn’t, he needed time to organize his thoughts and to get used to the situation. He was always awkward with words so you patiently waited the whole weekend, going back to just texting. You talked on the phone too, chatting as you normally did, except now you slipped in compliments and sweet nothings as well, always making the other one blush even if it couldn’t be seen.

Then Monday came around finally. You walked to the school and to your class, passing Hitoshi in the hallway. You noticed he didn’t ignore you completely, shooting you a warm look that effectively made your knees weak. You weren’t able to concentrate during lessons, your mind too occupied with the indigo haired boy. How could you not think about him when your classrooms were right next to each other? During the third lesson you couldn’t take it anymore and secretly texted him.

To: Frickin’ Savior

Text: How much for 10g of the stuff? You smiled, quite satisfied with your pun. But hey, he got you hooked so it was his fault. You were shifting nervously the whole time until the break came. Just as the bell rang there was a big fuss at the door, lot of muttering. You sat on your desk so you could see but you didn’t need to, it was the exact moment Hitoshi emerged from the group of people blocking the doors. “We don’t want any villains here!” Someone shouted after him but he paid it no mind, instead walking towards you with determined look on his face. It made your heart do flips inside your chest. You looked at him confusedly, this was a taboo! He didn’t seemed to care though as he made his way to you. One of his hands sneaked around your waist and the other cupped your cheek. He pulled you close and leaned in to kiss you, you were to shocked to protest, melting into him instead. Nothing but his lips against your mattered, definitely not the gasping and stupid remarks of your classmates. You moved in sync, both hungry for more. He pulled away reluctantly, looking into your eyes with a smirk. “Is this enough of a confession?” Corners of your mouth quirked up, you captured his lips again instead of answering. Yes, this was enough.

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi fluff #shinso x reader #shinso fluff

28 notes · View notes